Deadly Sins Rampant: Battle with Wrath
by Ten-Faced
Summary: Volume Two. The mortal world is still asleep. Olympus has opened up but declared war on the Sins, who are all too happy at this. Both Roman and Greek demigods are getting ready to engage the enemy, but neither side knows of each other, and those that do know hope it'll stay that way. Not very likely, when one immortal enemy deity called Wrath wants them all to burn - literally.
1. Future Code

I own nothing, please read Deadly Sins Rampant: Realm of Sloth to better understand what is happening in the partly AU series.

* * *

"What doomsday speech did I give this time?" Rachel asked Annabeth as the two girls emerged from the cave of the Oracle.

"See for yourself," Annabeth gave her the piece of notebook paper she had jotted down the prophecy on.

Rachel took the scrap of paper, and read the words despite the squiggly, loping letters and words. There weren't spelling mistakes, which was a great accomplishment for demigods, but it still took the redheaded oracle to decipher the writing of a dyslexic girl with ADHD.

_Of your puzzle there are three_

_Two does not make complete_

_Pieces are the foretold dreams_

_Assembled by all the normal means_

_Fire and rage your brethren face_

_And decide the outcome of your race_

_One might be two, two as one_

_Of meanings thought by wisdom there may not be none_

_Forces stir, futures change_

_Seven choose the next new age_

Rachel frowned as she read over the paper with the hastily scribbled prophecy. "_That's_ what I said? My poetry's getting worse by the day, I swear."

Annabeth didn't bother reminding the Oracle of her patron god's skill at such manipulation of words. "What I don't understand is how that helps me find the Virtues," she sighed. "I specifically asked where I could find them, and the spirit gives me something like this."

"_Of your puzzle there are three,"_ Rachel recited as she ran her hand over the lopsided letters. _"Two does not make complete_. Fractions, maybe? Two over three, maybe. Sixty six point six infinite percent. I hate my math teacher."

"_Pieces are the foretold dreams_," Annabeth reminded her. "Not likely. The last time I checked, fractions were mostly numbers separated from each other with a dash. She does sound like the ideal most hated teacher."

Rachel laughed at that. "Maybe demigod dreams, then. You better take Percy with you. You know how he dreams."

"Oh, yeah," Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Vividly."

"Are we talking about your memory or your boyfriend's dreaming here?"

"Both, of course."

"I'm not even going to ask," Rachel said, smiling nonetheless. But then, she frowned. "_Fire and rage_… from what I read in the guidebook, that thing our 'brethren' are going to face sounds suspiciously like Wrath."

"I thought you gave it to Chiron?"

"I skimmed the profiles of the Sins before I did. Did you know that Greed and Gluttony once influenced McDonalds? Not going to go eat _there_ again. I always _knew_ there was something fishy there."

"That makes sense in an odd way…" Annabeth trailed off. "Maybe I should stop going there too."

"Yeah, I hear the animal treatment is horrible."

"Were you getting facts from biased websites again?"

"…maybe."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Chiron dissected their prophecy a bit more seriously and less off topic. "Race… I'd assume that would be your quest."

"Oh, great, another time-needy quest."

"I finished mine within a day."

"And I can only hope to be half as lucky."

"Perhaps you are right, Rachel, in your guess of this Wrath being the Fire and rage given in your prophecy."

Something clicked to Annabeth in the way that Chiron had worded his sentence. "Chiron, could you repeat that?"

The centaur didn't bother to ask for clarification, and did as she asked. "Your prophecy… what if the foretold dreams are actually a prophecy?"

The other two thought about that idea, while Annabeth's brain whirred forward. "Three in the puzzle, two don't make it complete… the prophecy Rachel gave for finding Sloth, or Patience, or whoever Sleeping Beauty-"

"Snow White," Rachel corrected.

"-was supposed to be, and this one! That makes two out of three!"

"Because the last one hasn't been given yet."

"Exactly."

Chiron nodded. "It could make sense to why the first one hadn't been completed, because the way this entire thing has been formatted, it would require all three to be read properly… yes, that seems very likely that Rachel's prophecies are the puzzle pieces, seeing the third to last line. Annabeth, have you given any thought to whom you'd like on your quest?"

"Percy," she answered immediately. "But as for the last person… I'm still trying to decide."

"Choose wisely," he advised. "This prophecy does not give any clue as to whom may accompany you, and the wrong choice could be fatal."

"I'll keep that in mind," Annabeth promised. "But first, I'll go and tell Percy to get ready and pack."

"Bug spray!" Rachel reminded her, doodling on her pants again.

"Will pack!" the door slammed behind her as she ran out towards the Poseidon Cabin.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

In the cold land, two armies faced each other. One had walked straight into a trap, the other was gloating slightly because of their success at trapping.

The trapped army was a rather humble gathering, one with simple clothes and simple weapons and simple people making up the simple armed force. A mere scouting party, really. The rather remarkable thing was that this plain army, the one that would not have managed to draw any attention other than it being a small army, was partly transparent. An army of ghost, perhaps, only they were not exactly the left-behind dead.

At the front was a simple commander, a plainly dressed woman with somewhat pretty features, light brown hair and pale green eyes like the spring meadows. Unlike her followers, the manifestation of humanity's patience was firm, in the flesh, and in solid form. Ages upon ages had been her gift, her ability to last and wait her weapon.

On the other side of the field was a glorious army. Banners of bright green waving in the slight wind, fire-eyed soldiers rearing on horses, their generals and marshals on bears snarling in rabid anger, and weapons, sharp, lethal, painful to even look at in the hands of all. The simple commander's humble army was barely half the size of the elite warriors gathered. The head of the clearly more powerful soldiers was male, tall and imposing, a leader in his every cell. Handsome features, chiseled to be both cruelly magnificent and terribly beautiful, he could have been called the epitome of masculine beauty, and had often been called that before the awed lay their fortunate – or unfortunate, depending on the situation – eyes on his brother. Unlike his adversary, his eyes were bright green, like hellfire and summer leaves of trees and evergreens.

One of his marshals jeered. "You can't even hope to take us, Patience! Give up and flee like the coward you are!" His troop echoed the insult.

Patience took it without even batting an eye.

Wrath saw everything and only one thing at the same time. What to do, what to do…

In previous fights like this, against _her_, he had always struck first, tired of waiting, and she had waited, just like she loved to do, and then struck back. It gave him a disadvantage at first, in the initial wave, but soon, if they lasted long, they would have been on even grounds. At the moment, that was the strategy that would work best.

Really, it was the only strategy that he had ever used against her. His powers were, to her, useless until it was physical or magic combat that would be used, and magic combat was out of the question. Physical combat it was, then.

He raised his right arm, and his entire army surged forward, thirsty for destruction and the figurative blood and death of their enemies, who held rank and kept their faces calm and clear.

Or, calm and clear before the enormous bear lumbered into battle from nowhere. It was on all fours, yet the distance from the ground to his head would have been perhaps forty feet. Eyes the same green shade as his master burned with uncontrolled rage as the great bear – the bear that was a giant grizzly bear at the moment – got to its feet and roared.

Fear flitted across the spirit army. Only their commander, the only one in the entire scouting war party capable of feeling pain, kept her face blank, yet to him, it was as if she was taunting him, challenging him. _Was this all you could do? _She seemed to ask.

Perhaps that was only his interpretation. He had, because of his nature, a tendency to war rather than seek peace, picking up unintended meaning from falsely understood double meanings and hidden messages between the lines. That was the cause of many disputes, wars, skirmishes, hatreds, and burning angers within the hearts of men and women throughout the centuries, adding to his power until he was a force to be terrified of. And that had been many millennia ago. Now, his power was massive.

He didn't really care, as long as he could take down his nemesis with it. "Ira!"

The bear roared again, and swiped with its paw deliberately to the right of the woman, dissolving and decreasing her already too-small army into half.

Patience sprang into action. She had leapt from where she was standing, and in the timeframe of a blink, she was running up the destructive paw and then Ira's foreleg like a videogame character, not even losing her balance when the bear shook and tried to bite her off. Within seconds, she was on top of the bear's head.

The rest of her army charged, then, engaging with the other, more superior army, and both sides began to fight. Like he had guessed, for every one member of Patience's army that fell, two of his was taken down.

They didn't have enough. Within moments, his army had regained their momentum and from then on, the losses were too great for his enemies.

Ira screamed, in rage or pain or a very likely combination of both, and bounded, crushing both the spirit army and the fiery army without care. Patience struck the bear's skull one last time with surprising strength, and then leapt off, rolling in the air and landing perfectly on both feet, crouching to reduce the impact.

He was there. A fist smashed into her stomach when she straightened, and she was thrown five feet back before her feet managed to find the earth. When she stood properly, he smashed into her again, fists and feet crunching into her bones, not giving her a chance to recover or strike back. His army was preventing her own from reaching their mistress commander, and it was all him and her.

A sadistic grin flitted across his normally-strict face. It disappeared, though, replaced by a scowl when she finally hit his arm with what was now called a karate chop. Bone crunched, and his right arm filled with searing pain, taking him back for a nanosecond to that day when he and his brethren were trapped and forced to-

His left, unhurt arm swung up and grabbed her by the throat, holding her up above his own height. Patience kicked and scratched, each sending pain into him, but he held, sapping her energy reserves until she slumped. He held on for a few more moments, and then, once he was sure she didn't have enough to hurt even a minor soldier of his, threw her above his head. Ira growled, but gently bit her out of the air nonetheless.

"Patience, Ira," he told his faithful companion, letting a small smile slip on at the irony of his words. "Now our duty begins."

The bear gently tapped his arm, careful not to touch the actually wounded area. Wrath laid his left hand over the spot for a moment, and then removed it, nodding. "It will heal."

The bear sniffed, and gave a muffled growl around the suppressed woman within his jaws. "Yes, go and take her to Pride."

Without second commands needed, the bear bounded away, gone from sight in less than a minute. Wrath glanced behind him to see a quarter of his army left. He snapped his left fingers carelessly, and they dissolved back into the flames they'd been born from. All that was left was trampled ground, hardly evidence for battle, especially without blood or gore or bodies.

The flames wrapped around him, and then flared once before extinguishing abruptly. Where the tall, muscular man had been standing, there was no trace left except for a few drops of black blood, tinged with the same green as his eyes.

* * *

A few hours after I posted the last official chapter of RoS, I went to Chapters and bought MoA. So here's the first chapter of Battle with Wrath, because I finally read the damn book and god, Rick, really? The ending?


	2. Code Crackers

No one in their right minds, whether fully or partly, should have let a bunch of dyslexic and ADHD demigods be the crackers for the code that may or may not have existed in rhyming lines foretelling the future and save the world from being destroyed or whatever the Sins would have wanted.

That, sadly, meant that their camp director was completely out of his mind. But then again, he was an ancient centaur, and if Leo had been a teacher for hyperactive, uncontrollable kids with terrible luck, sharp weapons and a tendency to be eaten by monsters who craved the mixed blood of gods and mortals, he thought he'd have gone insane as well. "Why are we here?" he asked the question to the room filled with the people who had been related to the quest he'd gone on recently.

Annabeth – the blond chick with storm grey eyes that scared him, just a little – looked up and made eye contact. "You were on the quest that was issued by the first prophecy of the three codes," she explained, not too unkindly. "We're hoping there's something you know."

Leo peered down at the paper with both prophecies written out in large, bold letters. Someone with neat and big writing had taken the time to write them out so that even he could read it without too much difficulty. "Numbers, maybe?" he guessed. "Both mention numbers."

"One and three in the first one," Piper agreed, peering as well. "And one, two, three and seven in the second. I don't really see a pattern."

"Technically, it would be one, one, three in the first and three, two, one, two, two, one, and seven in the second."

"Or, if you counted the 'none' in the latest one, it could be three, two, one, two, two, one, zero, and seven."

Ideas began to pour out. Some offered further elaborations on the numbers idea, others disagreed and insisted on dissecting the words and letters until Leo's head was spinning with excerpts from the alphabet and his old math book. The math book escapees he didn't mind, he liked math and was pretty darn good at it, but the letters, he didn't like at all. Leo felt nauseated just thinking of it.

"Maybe we could call Sloth and ask for help?"

Rachel probably hadn't meant to quieten the room, but her suggestion had that effect, and everyone stared at her. "Well, she did say she owed us a favor," she said in a defensive tone. "And she's ancient. She has to know _something_ about this, an idea, at least."

"Yeah, but she's trapped in a _pithos_," Nico pointed out. "The very _pithos_ where she'd been imprisoned before. And the gods have told us that we wouldn't be able to cash in that favor. Plus, Chiron's pretty old, too. No offense, by the way."

"None taken, Nico."

Leo wasn't sure, but the son of Hades seemed rather distracted and half-hearted, like he was saying something he didn't really believe in. Did he know something no one else did? Probably, seeing everyone's history here.

Rachel huffed. "It was just an idea."

"Well, it probably wouldn't have worked."

"Got any then, Smarty pants?"

"Shut up, please," Annabeth interrupted before Nico could say whatever he'd been about to say. Leo would have bet his siblings that it wouldn't have been an invite to a tea party. "No more brainstorming?"

They muttered negative. Chiron put away his notebook that he'd been writing in, and wheeled forward. "Perhaps you could follow the directions given by the first prophecy to find the Virtues?" he suggested. "It does say that they are a puzzle together."

"Oh," Annabeth blinked, like she hadn't been expecting that. "Oh, right. That's a good idea."

"Maybe not," Percy pointed out, tapping one of the lines to the first one that dictated his very first quest. "No identical dreams."

Annabeth shot a look to Percy. "You wouldn't have happened to dream about the salad bar in Olympus, would you?"

Her boyfriend shook his head, and Leo frowned. The _what_ now? There was a _salad bar_ at the place and he hadn't been allowed to eat from it? So unfair.

"And now I'm hungry," Rachel muttered. "We'll get together later and discuss more, I guess. Annabeth? I'm pretty sure you're going, so get sleep and try to dream. Go to the Hypnos Cabin, take sleeping pills, whatever. Just don't overdose and die on us, because then Percy will go crazy and kill everything before heroically stabbing himself wherever the heck his Achilles' Heel is to kill himself, which would be bad because we're supposed to be getting ready for war."

"I appreciate your care," Annabeth said dryly.

Rachel smiled sincerely at the blond. "Anyone else?"

Nico raised a hand. "Can I have a copy of these?" he pointed to the prophecies.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Dreams again?" Percy complained as he and Annabeth walked down to the lake, ignoring the giggles of the girls in the water. "Can't it get any more original?"

"At least it didn't happen before in Ancient Greece," Annabeth consoled. "Not that I know of, anyways. You'll be doing a first."

"I already did that as a first," he corrected, slightly relishing the opportunity. It wasn't every day that you were able to correct one of the smartest daughters of Athena. "Now it'll be like an annoying rerun."

"Seaweed Brain, you're hopeless."

"I know you love me."

"Not creepy at all."

He swore he heard giggling somewhere far behind him, and he wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused at their eavesdroppers. "Well, it's the truth."

She didn't deny it.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"The sun sets so quickly," Bianca murmured, shutting their cabin door shut and letting the shadows thicken. "And time seems to fly for me."

"It probably does," Nico answered, sheathing his sword. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his sister do the same for her knife, a black blade of Stygian Iron. They had woken to find it, a skeleton holding it out while bowing respectfully. Bianca's weapon that would tell the world of her godly parent. "You _were_ dead."

"Something no one seems set on letting me forget," she said dryly. "It's like I'm the person that gave birth to a hundred kids or something."

"Is this your way of telling me that you may have gotten a crush on someone? Because if it is, I need to have a serious talk with the guy."

"No," Bianca sighed. "I'm just saying, it makes me uncomfortable."

Nico paused as he was putting his blanket around himself. "We're children of Hades," he told her, like an older sibling would have told the younger, despite their role reversal. "We'll always be the freaks."

"Thank you, Nico, I knew I could always count on you to be cheerful."

"You're welcome," he closed his eyes, and willed the dim light to go out. "Good night, Bianca."

"Good night, Nico."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Nico fell asleep, and when he did, he found himself at the beginning of a bridge over a dark chasm. Despite his advantage of being a child of Hades – night vision – he couldn't see anything in that rift, and that made him uneasy.

The only thing that made him absolutely certain that Sloth was on the other side was the color of said bridge. It was a bright greenish blue, or bluish green, or whatever it could be. He knew of only one person – or deity – that used this color like it was the air she breathed. Not looking down, he began to walk over it, constantly reassuring himself that the bridge was built sturdily, and would not randomly collapse beneath his feet much like the ones in movies tended to do when the hero walked over it.

It didn't, thankfully. Soon, he was at the other side of the bridge, and his hands had gone digging into his pockets to find the copies of the prophecy. Rachel had said the perfect thing, suggesting Sloth's help, but it was only Nico, really, that could get access to Sloth, although he wasn't letting anyone in on _that_ secret anytime soon.

"Hey, Sloth!" he yelled, looking around. He doubted that she would have kept up the library prison, but he didn't know whatever quirks she may have had. "It's Nico!"

A light finger tapped his shoulder, and Nico turned to come directly face-to-face with said personification of Sin. "You're here again?" she asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

A few days ago, the world had fallen asleep. Like, literally asleep, with all the mortals silently slumbering like there had been some sort of world wide nap, only they hadn't woken up. No demigods were under the spell, and as such, they gathered to camp trying to figure out what in the name of Hades was going on.

Sloth had come into their lives directly at that point. She had entered the dreams of several people, and chosen her people that were mentioned in the prophecy for her freeing. When the party had gone to her prison in Las Vegas via her brother Lust, they had managed to rescue a bunch of other people, one of them being Nico's formerly dead sister Bianca, who had somehow been brought back to life.

Sloth had been freed by them, and then kicked out the imitator that had pretended to be her, but then she'd been betrayed by her brother – Lust, who had revealed that Sloth had been, essentially, banished from the Sins because of her going against Pride and Greed, the leaders of the Sins. Lust had gotten wounded by Percy, and Sloth had finished him off as mercy killing.

Then, because apparently the Sins had been enemies of the gods, four of the Olympians had dropped into Las Vegas for the arrest of one girl and one cat. Sloth had gone peacefully, promising that the demigods on the quest could call in a favor from her and even offering the gods her help before entering her former prison, the infamous _pithos_ of Pandora. The gods had declined her help, and that was that. End of discussion.

Except back in Vegas, Nico had temporarily lent Sloth the use of his body, and as a result, some sort of connection had been made. Sloth had been trying to sever it, but currently, it didn't seem to be working very well.

"You sound so excited to see me."

"I'm not," she deadpanned, teal eyes half-closed. Sloth was very pretty, pale skin, aquamarine eyes and black hair down to her waist, but she also glowed with power. Subtle power, but strong, divine power, despite her appearance of a young girl. Today, she seemed to have put on the guise of a twelve year old. "Your visit destroyed my work from the last five hours. Do you know how much I hate working?"

"Sorry," he apologized, not really meaning it at all. "But I needed your help."

"I just saw you last night. What could have possibly happened in that short period of time that you would need my help?"

Nico handed her the dream-copies of the two prophecies, given by Rachel in such short time. "We think they're connected," he explained while she read them, her eyes flying over the page with speed impossible for most demigods, and the majority of mortals. "And there have been a lot of theories on numbers or letters or even rhymes."

Sloth ignored him. "Of your puzzle, there are three, two does not make complete…" she read the first part of the second prophecy out loud. "Interesting."

"What?"

"That's the English motto of the Sins carved into the table we used for the very first conference back in Britain," Sloth gave a half smile. "A reminder to Pride and Greed about our third leader, the eldest of the Sins."

"Who's that?"

Sloth shrugged. "Only the eldest, Pride, and Greed knows. No one else."

"And you haven't tried to find out?" Nico found that incredulous. Sloth must have known about this for a _long_ time, yet she had no curiosity burning behind her to find the answer? He'd _just_ learned about this, and already he wanted to know the answer.

"My nature is to be uncaring because of my indolence. I've never particularly wanted to know, so long as I was able to do what I wanted to do."

There, Nico realized, was the difference between Sloth and most people. Her curiosity, or indeed, any of her emotions, would always be placed second to her rest, her laziness.

"Got any ideas about this?"

Sloth looked over the first prophecy again, and made a face. "Funny how my message got interpreted. That is a terrible prophecy."

"What?"

"I commissioned it, but this is horrible. If I had paid for it, I'd definitely be demanding a refund. As it is…" she sighed. "I can only complain."

"You're not making sense," Nico tried to make sense of what she was saying anyways. "You _commissioned_ the prophecy?"

"More precisely, I was sending out a desperate SOS and a simple set of instructions. The Spirit of Delphi did the rest."

"How?"

"There are layers," Sloth told him, folding up the prophecies into some kind of shapes. "And levels, and roads, and connections. I used my power and resource to tap into one such, and from then on, the wheels and threads of fate did the rest."

"Speak simpler!"

One of the prophecies changed into a paper eagle, and Nico's skin crawled just looking at it. Were those blank eyes glaring at him? Zeus didn't seem to like him too much, and even in paper, the symbol of his uncle was glaring at him. Sloth picked it up and threw it, and they both watched the paper eagle fly away. When it was out of sight, Sloth began to speak again. "The Oracle picks up a certain path, one that tells the story of the past, the present, and the possible futures. I just happened to send a very concentrated message there, enough to overload the normal words of forewarning and replace it with my message."

Nico blinked. "I don't understand."

"Let's just say that I hit the Spirit of Delphi with my SOS message until it conveyed it as a prophecy. A really terrible prophecy, but it did its job. Somewhat."

"Anything else?"

Sloth frowned and read it aloud, the paper animals back in front of her now, over and over again until Nico was sure he had memorized it. "Wrath is coming."

"No, really?"

Sloth raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm, but didn't say anything about it. "Perhaps he'll be the one to send the dream this time."

"Can he do that? I thought you were in charge of the dreams in the Sins."

This time, Sloth's frown deepened and she looked up. "How do you know that?"

"Chiron's teaching everything he knows about the Sins," Nico almost told her about the guide. Almost. "You know, 'know the enemy'?"

"Huh," she looked troubled. "As for Wrath… he could. He – and for that matter, Envy and Pride – are long used to whispering in the ears of those who are most likely to fall to their Sins. They do that so well, in fact, that they're almost better than me."

"So we're going to have an angry dude whispering in our ears?"

Sloth let out an amused sigh. "In shorter words… yes. But he will also come for war."

"Of course. Because what's life without war?"

"Peaceful."


	3. Stress and Exhaustion

"Nico, are you alright?"

The son of Hades looked at his sister, a light smile on his face. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem kind of worried… and stressed."

His smile disappeared, and then came back on, albeit a bit forced. He was worried, but he didn't want Bianca to know why, or she'd be worried. That, and the reason for his worrying was a bit of a secret at the moment.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

_"At the moment? That's all I can get out of these ridiculous excuses of rhymes and poetry. Now stop coming to visit me, unless it's an absolute emergency!" _

_"Why?" Nico gathered the prophecies, and shoved them in his pocket. Sloth had made copies of them and was letting them fly in her teal winds, dissecting them to analyze from every possible direction. That was what she had said, anyways, but Nico couldn't imagine why someone would tear apart everything down to the last word, throw it into a bunch of living winds, and then try to read them to see if it made sense. "It's not like I'm going to die because of this, am I?"_

_"Not directly," Sloth admitted. "But you could go mad if the connection was to widen too much, and if that was to happen, the barriers separating us would be destroyed permanently. Nothing would stop your consciousness from then being sucked up into mine and being lost forever. You would be left as a shell without anything inside, and your soul would be lost forever. Or, in an extremely slim chance of good luck, your spirit could escape, but you would be driven to permanent madness. _Then_, there's a chance of you killing yourself, or getting yourself killed. A normal human, or even a demigod could barely handle the consciousness of the Lesser Evils that once dwelled in Pandora's _pithos_ unless they were trained for it or naturally possessed a strong will. Against the mind of a Sin, even one that's temporarily tied down, your mind couldn't last. You would be overwhelmed, and either swallowed or spat out. Neither are good options, I must say."_

_"Would it hurt to clean your brain?" he tried to joke about it and face it like Percy would. "Tidy things up? And you were in possession of my body before, so what happened there?"_

_She scowled at him. "The barriers were up, then. If this continues, it will be destroyed. As for your other question… it's not a matter of whether my mind is dirty or not, but it would be like having a god possess his or host with their full divine being purely conscious and in control if that happened. There would be no chance of you surviving."_

_"Gods and hosts?"_

_Sloth blinked. "Oh, wait, no, wrong comparison. Let's just say that your sanity would be destroyed."_

_That didn't just sound like some kind of wrong word choosing to him. It sounded like she'd been talking about something completely different, and it didn't sound like much of a good thing. "Hang on, what hosts?"_

_She ignored his question. If that wasn't a clear sign that he was onto something, he didn't know what was. "Leave. Every second you spend here makes my attempts at closing off the connection harder." Sloth waved her hand, and Nico woke up, her warnings echoing in his ears._

**~\-Wrath-/~**

So he was going to go crazy if he kept on visiting his mental neighbor… who was having a hard time closing off the paths between their minds because she was thinking of hosts or something. Lovely thought of the day.

It took some time, but he came back to reality when he realized that Bianca was snapping her fingers under his nose. "Nico? Nico?"

"Yeah?"

"You seem really out of it today," she said, concern coloring her voice. "You sure you don't want to just rest for the day?"

Nico felt a twist of guilt. He was making his formerly dead sister worry about nothing, just something that might happen if he was careless." No, I can train, learn about Sins and eat fine," he assured her, getting up and grabbing his sword. "I bet I could do it better than you, actually."

"That's not fair; you were alive for longer than me."

"Not my problem!"

Bianca made a funny face at him, letting him know that whatever may have colored her mind with worry for him, it was over, and she was reassured. "Great brother you are."

Nico would have been perfectly justified to have pointed out that she hadn't been the greatest sister herself, leaving him when an opportunity to do so came. From the look in her eyes and her fading smile, she had come to that realization as well. "Nico…"

He shook it off. "It's all good."

Bianca looked doubtful, but she didn't press the issue. "Should we get breakfast?" she asked instead.

Nico stood up, stiff joints making popping sounds as he did so. "Good idea. I'm starving."

"Boys."

"Damn the Hunters and their sexist attitude. They've rubbed off on you, even in that short time."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Did you have a particularly meaningful dream?" was Rachel's way of, apparently, saying good morning.

Annabeth scowled at their Oracle, and practically shoved her burnt offering for breakfast into the brazier, whispering her mother's name. "Not unless the meaningful dream was Percy and me on a date."

"It must have been sent to you from Aphrodite, then," Rachel guessed, following the guesses she herself had already made some time ago. "Either that, or it was just your imagination, dying to be with your boyfriend in some semblance of normalcy."

"Normalcy," Annabeth muttered. "Percy and Me. Yeah, right. Are there any mortals waking up?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not as far as I know, and I know a lot of things nowadays. Sloth promised some mortals would wake up on their own soon… I guess her definition of soon is a bit later than ours, huh?"

"She _is_ old," Annabeth admitted as she picked up her dish. "At least, according to what everyone's been telling me. But I suppose that would be the same for every immortal being. Time flashing by in a blink… I need to eat. Tell me if anything happens?"

"Of course," the Oracle replied before leaving to the table where Chiron sat.

Annabeth did the same, assuming her position at the Athena Table, feeling just a bit guilty. It wasn't a complete lie, what she had told Rachel about her dream. She _had_ dreamt of going on a date with Percy. It had been a really nice date too, one that she would have treasured in her mind and memories forever if it had been real. As it was, she could only settle into trying to somehow prompt Seaweed Brain into taking her to a meadow with her laptop, a picnic basket, an army of automatons at her disposal, and an endless supply of building materials and tools, despite the impossibility of that.

No, what she felt guilty about had happened near the end of her sleep, when the literal dream date had faded away and she had expected to wake. Instead, she had received a nasty surprise, one that carried into the real world from the realms of dreams and spirits.

Technically, it wasn't a dream, so she wasn't too worried about that technicality, but Annabeth didn't like it. She wanted to tell someone about it, but that voice had threatened her, made her feel sick, useless and angry at everything including herself.

Still, her hand poked at her back, just in the position where Percy's one vulnerability was. She'd been trusted with the information after she had taken a poisoned blade for him, and she swore to herself that she'd never reveal the information willingly, and that she would rather die than give away his weakness.

Her own back, the spot just behind her in the naval area, that patch of skin now held a secret. As soon as she could, Annabeth resolved to read up on a few things, maybe do a few searches on the Internet with her laptop on the symbol now burnt into her skin.

And then, if nothing was explainable, _then_ she'd go and tell people that dreams could hurt people physically.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"How's your memories?"

Hazel looked up, and smiled, recognizing Jason. "Good. But it's weird."

He sat down next to her, ready to listen. "How?"

"Back when I still didn't know who I was, I kept on knowing things, but not on purpose. It's like… like I knew myself, but not consciously."

Jason nodded, serious and sincere. She appreciated it. "But that should be all of my memories, so I'm recovered, now."

"That's it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Here I was, ready to brave the female mind for a heart-to-heart conversation, and you just cut it off there?"

"Well, yes."

"Shame."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Jason stood up. "And I think we have a meeting today, which means togas for all."

Togas. She didn't know how to put one on. Apparently, that wasn't a skill you inherited.

"Oh, and don't worry, Gwen will tell you everything you need to know."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"We're not much closer than we were."

"We know our culprits," Zeus said half-heartedly, knowing what his opponent in this debate would say.

"But that was only because one of them was betrayed by her own kind and all but turned herself in!" the Olympian argued. "Sloth has offered her help. She must know things, having been near them for so long. How they think, how they act, what they are most likely to do, their weaknesses."

Zeus was near his giving point. Athena was making excellent points, and although none of them – his gray-eyed daughter included – liked the idea of letting Sloth out of her prison, it seemed to be the best course of action to take, never mind that it was their last resort. They had even tried kissing the sleeping Virtue, to no success except Ares being less violent and actually calm for an hour after he had given it a try. Quite an accomplishment any other day, but that hadn't been a result they needed.

It was like the goddess of wisdom had read his mind. "Even I do not like thinking of her out and about, father," she said, voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But as it is, it is our _best_ option."

Best. Not good, but best, which meant that there was a chance everything could fail, but this one had a lesser chance of crashing in around them if it went wrong. Zeus exhaled, suddenly very tired. What was the point of all this? "Very well."

Some of the Olympians blinked, reminding him of what he had to do. "But we put it to a vote first," he declared. "All those in favor?"

The King of the Gods was surprised to find all of them – except Apollo and Hermes – raise their hands. They must have come to the same conclusion as he, thinking that anything that could remove surprise from their foes would be better. They all remembered just what the Sins had done in the heavens, though that had been a long time ago, and although they – or at least Sloth – had claimed to have changed, all of the immortals knew that a habit was hard to break, just as hard as a cheetah trying to change into stripes rather than spots.

Hermes raised a hand, seeking permission to speak. "Yes?"

"Let us wait," he began, and then kept silent while some other gods murmured. "Give her three days, and see if we cannot come up with something ourselves. If we do, then we don't have need of her out of her prison. If we do end up needing her, then no one would really complain."

"All those in favor?"

Apollo and Hermes raised their hands, and after a pause, so did Hera and Artemis, but that was it.

"Then we will release Sloth," Zeus said, feeling like each of his words were five tonne blocks of lead being dragged out by a hot wire from his tongue.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"But we were supposed to get a grace period!" Jason protested.

"But the auguries!" Octavian cried out. "They speak of an enemy! _The tall man of rage and flames, the warriors who follow him, they come to fight Rome_! It will be soon! It is the will of the gods!"

Octavian looked genuinely freaked out, and that sort of, maybe, kind of, scared Jason. Normally, he could have seen that he was a sleazebag trying to get something out of everything, but now, he was panicking.

"That is a clear message you have divined from the bears," Reyna commented lightly.

"It was either that or _'The tail mink of rain and fleas, the waters who filter holes, they come to fight Rome.'_ I doubt it was the latter."

Jason admitted (grudgingly) that Octavian had a good point. If he was telling the full and complete truth – and for once in his life, he seemed to be doing that – then someone tall, angry and fiery was coming, with an army of warriors behind him, and that someone was going to be harmful to Rome. His mind flitted back to Fear. He had burst into flame constantly, he was tall, and he'd been raging quite a lot when he had attacked. The description fit well, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't Fear at all, but something worse.

A Sin, then. From research, they had found that the Seven Deadly Sins were, most commonly, made up of Pride, Greed, Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Gluttony. He was sure it was Wrath, though he couldn't very well tell that to the gathered demigods, all based on nothing but gut instinct and guesses despite what Lupa had said.

"Then we get ready for war."

* * *

School is slowing down my writing speed... sigh...

Preview for next chapter: _"I'm eating that apple. Don't fight about it and start another Trojan War. It's just an apple. A very delicious, tantalizing apple with magical properties that may or may not be good, but it's just an apple."_

_"Just eat it."_

* * *

Happy Halloween!


	4. Brothers

"Come and fight me, coward!" Thalia yelled into the void, wielding the weapons she somehow had on herself. It was probably a dream she was having, but it was a dream where it felt like she was getting hurt, and the hurt inflicted on the other real as well.

Something behind Thalia grabbed her wrist, and flipped her onto her back, slamming her to the ground. A fist punched her stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs. While she tried to recover, her assailant looked down at her coldly. "Better?"

"You hit from the back," she gasped, letting oxygen flow into her lungs. "That's cheating."

His lips twitched. "Naïve little girl, aren't you?" he didn't wait for an answer. Perhaps he knew that her answer for his rhetorical question would have things that involved a scorpion, a fiery pit, and a position virtually impossible for the human body to twist into. "But it's time for you to wake from your sweet little dream."

"Sweet, my foot," Thalia replied. "I've been trying to hunt you in darkness without a single lead or trail."

He ignored her, shifting her thinner wrists to one of his large, powerful hands, strong enough to hold both without even releasing her. "You have much anger within you. Perhaps in another world, we could have been allies."

"I don't even _know_ you," she stressed. "Now let go of me before I shove a lightning bolt into your ear."

Fire burst from the tip of his index finger, the hand that wasn't holding her down, and he lowered it to the back of her right hand. "Enjoy the hunt."

He pressed the fire – green like Greek Fire – down on her flesh. Thalia screamed initially at the pain of being burnt, and then gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her pain.

In the light, she saw his eyes to be emerald green. He released her, and stood, tall and powerful. "If you want revenge, then I suggest you look for your brother."

"Which one?" she asked, examining the skin on the back of her hand. The burn was a strange pattern now, a circular tattoo with flames actually flickering in the green boundaries. A moving tattoo. Great, just what she always wanted, next to that Green Day CD and T-shirt. "My dad had a lot of kids."

"The one called Jason Grace."

Thalia looked up, checking to see if he was joking. He wasn't. "Jason's dead."

The green-eyed man raised his eyebrows. "That will prove to be disappointing for me, then, when I go to fight him today."

"Are you telling me I should go to the Underworld?"

The man turned away, and began to walk to someplace where she knew she wouldn't be able to track him. "Why look for the living in the world of the dead?"

Thalia blinked in surprise, and her eyes found themselves opening to the sight of a ceiling. The ceiling of a familiar room in the place she knew to be the Big House.

"Thalia?" she turned around to see a blonde with gray eyes and a laptop on a desk. "You're awake!"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

The seal snapped open, and out of the pithos bust out the shower of golden dust that gathered and solidified into Sloth. Once again magical flesh and blood, she blinked. "How long has it been?"

She knew the answer to be about a day or two, maybe three, an extremely short time even in mortal standards, but she asked anyways. The reply she received wasn't too satisfactory. "Not long."

"Great answer," she examined her hands, looking at her nails. "So what do the Olympians desire from me?"

"Information," Athena leaned forwards in her throne. "Everything you can tell us about your siblings. What courses of actions they are most likely to take. How we could find the Virtues. How to wake Patience."

"Patience?" Sloth saw the coffin at once. It would have been pretty hard to miss, dazzling with gold and stones. "What's _she_ doing here?"

"She was the gift your siblings sent us."

Sloth walked up to the sleeping woman. Just like she remembered from their games, but asleep. No Virtue in their right minds – or partly in their right minds, as no immortal could ever really be called sane – would leave themselves as vulnerable as this to a Sin, particularly if that Sin was the one who manipulated dreams and slumber like it was her hand. It had to be her siblings who had done this. It was clear, especially in the choice of the object sent along with the girl.

"An apple…"

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, she reached out and plucked it from her grasp. Immediately, the sweet, strong and tantalizing scent of the fruit, tempting and beckoning for those who caught a whiff of the scent to come and take a bite. The gods seemed to be affected by it as well, now that it was no longer near the person whose abilities had served as a partial dampener for Gluttony's power.

Just to test her theory, Sloth placed the forbidden fruit near the sleeping woman again, and saw the nullified effects before she pulled it away and hit them with the temptation of the fruit once more. Her experiment went on for some time until Poseidon asked her to stop in a clipped voice. "We know what will happen if you take away the apple again, Sloth."

Just to spite them, she performed the experiment one last time, and then placed the fruit back in Patience's sleeping hands.

"Before I give my suggestions on how to wake her…"

The Olympians recognized that tone of voice. Not on Sloth, but they were old enough to have heard it a countless amount of times over the ages. It was the voice of someone who wanted to put a few favors in for them in exchange for a service. Sloth seemed determined to get something out of all this. "Yes?"

"I'm eating that apple. Don't fight about it and start another Trojan War. It's just an apple. A very delicious, tantalizing apple with magical properties that may or may not be good, but it's just an apple."

That was it? It was a strange demand, but it didn't seem important. "Just eat it."

Sloth took the apple and bit into it. Again and again until there was nothing left except a bare core, and even then she just swallowed the entire thing. Aphrodite wrinkled her nose at that.

"Find Diligence," she ordered. "If anyone can wake her, it's him."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No. Mortal enemies generally try to hide from each other unless they have to either meet for a large fight, or a date. Perhaps you could give a prophecy to your heroes to hunt him down." She ignored their looks of discomfort at 'guessing' what they had done. If she was to keep the son of Hades safe, she had to keep their little connection a secret.

Perhaps she should have told the demigod that the more who knew about the link, the wider it would become, until it would lead to his madness, and later, death.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

One minute, Jason had been admitting that Octavian was actually saying things that were decently true and beneficial for New Rome in the way that wasn't 'everything-will-be-better-if-I-am-praetor' attitude, and the next, everyone who could had retrieved their weapons, left the city and the angry, hopping Terminus, and was defending the city from a bunch of fireballs.

Fireballs. Not what he had been expecting, because none of them were really tall, or angry. Rather, they were the size of snowballs, and they didn't seem particularly capable of feeling emotion, being things of light and heat without a spirit – or for that matter, a life. Still, they could be very painful when in contact with bare skin, as a daughter of Venus had been so kind to accidently demonstrate, and they were hacking at the floating spheres of fire, trying to make them dissipate before passing the line.

"Jason!" Reyna couldn't exactly be in the middle of the battle, as both she and her Pegasus had broken legs – and a wing, in the case of Skippy. It had to be someone else. What other female would yell at him like that in battle?

"Yeah, Gwen?" he asked, batting away the latest fireball, using his sword like a baseball bat with the flat side. It had a better effect than simply cutting at it, because, as he'd found out, fire was hard to cut. Quite a discovery.

"All the fires are landing in some kind of weird way. There's no pattern, but they're swerving to get to a particular location on the ground, and they're not spreading."

Jason batted away another projectile, and then looked down. Gwen had been right. The fire wasn't exactly for attack on Rome, he supposed, even if they had hit a few of the demigods, seeing the way how the flaming orbs had never passed the line. Rather, they were settling on certain spots on the ground in both curving and straight lines…

"The fire's writing something!" he exclaimed, and from the expression on Gwen's face, she had reached that conclusion as well at the same time as him. "But whatever the fire's writing, it's too large. We need to fly up there, try to read this. We need an eagle."

"Apologies," a deep voice rumbled. "All I have is a bear."

Jason turned around just to catch the sight of Gwen falling to the ground, head ripped off from her body before she had realized what was happening. A huge paw covered with shaggy black-brown fur with six-inch claws gleaming with fresh red blood – Gwen's blood – had been the weapon that had killed his friend. The paw was connected to a large, snarling bear that looked rather bloodthirsty. He readied his sword when the man spoke again.

"But then again, Gula isn't here, and neither is Gluttony."

Jason turned around fully, and his eyes met the sharp green ones of the man who had been speaking. He was dressed in familiar black armour, the type both Lust and Sloth had worn in Vegas when they had been facing each other, and his cape was the same hellfire green as his eyes. Said eyes were narrowed in some kind of fierce emotion that wasn't positive at all. The earth trembled, just a bit, as the Gwen-killer-bear, licking its paws, made its way back next to this man and stood on its hind legs. It was a bear, and therefore taller than the man, yet there was no questioning just who the stronger one of the two was, just as there was no question on the identity of this man.

"You're Wrath."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

The gods flickered, changing into their Roman aspects. Sloth caught that, and raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Something's attacking the Roman demigods," Athena was the first to recover, although she returned to her Greek form with some struggle. She had always hated the Romans for what they had done to her. "Something hidden from our sight." It was clear she had absolutely no desire to help them.

"Is there fire?" Sloth asked, unable to see out of Olympus. The amount of charms placed around her was really astonishing. It could take her quite some time to break out of this magical prison, should she have chosen to.

"Yes."

"It's Wrath."

"Your brother?" when she nodded, Jupiter made a decision. "Apollo, Vulcan, escort our prisoner to Camp Jupiter. If she is, indeed, willing to be on our side, she must prove it to us."

The blacksmith god placed something around her wrist. "In case you try to run away," he rumbled.

"I feel so trusted," she commented dryly before the two gods burst into a supernova.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Currently, Percy held the title of 'best swordsman of three hundred years'. That didn't stop Nico from trying to get it, though.

His sword – not the Stygian Iron blade, that sword was considered too dangerous for use in practice, even in Camp Half-Blood – swung through the air, only to be blocked by Percy's Riptide before he retracted it and made a jabbing motion. Percy knocked that out of his hands as well.

"This is unfair," he complained. "You're used to your sword. I'm not."

"Not my fault if even a cut can get me seriously and irreparably hurt both in body and soul," Percy said cheerfully. "_En garde_!"

"That didn't even sound like French," he muttered, swinging the blade that was lighter than he was used to just a bit too hard. Percy didn't manage to stop that one, and it clashed on his arm before bouncing off. Oh, and there was his invulnerability, too, which meant that he'd never get hurt training-

Invulnerability. "Wait a second!" Nico gawked. "Achilles' Curse! You can't get hurt!"

Percy looked unconvincingly surprised. "Oh, yeah, gee, um, I forgot about it?" It sounded more like a question than a satisfactory answer.

It clicked for Nico. "You did that on purpose!" he roared, and began to chop at the son of Poseidon with his practice Celestial Bronze sword like it was a machete. Not much style, just brute power, but it kept him back at bay, and it relieved stress.

"Not at first!" Percy protested. "But still, who knows what Stygian Iron could do to me? Besides, you're the one who forgot!"

"You should have reminded me! I've been getting blisters because of this second-rate thing and you-"

"You _know_ the Hephaestus kids will be offended if they hear you call that practice sword a second-rate thing!"

"Shut up! I've been _suffering_, using this, and you never bothered to tell me?"

"Well, yes," Percy grinned sheepishly. He had stopped trying to block his hits, and was taking it like an invulnerable man.

Nico sometimes wished that he hadn't come up with the idea of making Percy take a dip in the Styx.

Bianca laughed at them while sparring with a female camper a bit further down. "Boys will be boys," she smiled before disarming her opponent and holding a knife to her throat. "Yield."

The other camper did so, and Bianca left her after a few words of polite thanks. "Even if you had your own sword, I doubt you could have beaten him, Nico," she told him, wiping off her knife on her camp T-shirt. She no longer wore the silver garb of the Hunters, and that was a sight that Nico relished.

"Betrayed by my own sister," Nico groaned, but he stopped his wild attacks on Percy, much to Percy's relief. He hadn't been hurt, but his clothes were rather tattered. "Bianca, how could you?"

"Easily," she told him, face perfectly straight. "You're my brother, aren't you? I'm _supposed_ to be mean to you."

* * *

Ok, new goal: Update every Sunday.


	5. The Second Marking

Thalia clenched both her hands as Annabeth continued telling her story, telling her what had happened to her and what was going on in camp, hinting at something a quest party had gone to solve but not really expanding on that part of the story. She had promised to keep her mouth shut while the daughter of Athena talked, but it was getting increasingly harder by the word. Finally, the blonde finished and nodded, letting Thalia free of her promise.

"Wait, wait, wait," Thalia shook her head, trying to make sense. "So what you're saying is that I tried to _kill_ myself, and then fell into a coma for two days?"

Annabeth nodded. "At least, it looked like you were trying to kill yourselves, slashing at your wrists with knives. And Clovis is still in the coma, although if you think about it, he's probably sleeping."

"Huh?"

"He's a son of Hypnos," she said like it explained everything, which it did.

"Ah," Thalia nodded, and then shifted slightly. As soon as she had wakened, she had shoved her hand under her leg to hide the mark on the back of her hand, and the blood was being trapped under the pressure, and giving her the pins-and-needles feeling in her numbing fingers. It couldn't be helped, as the fire-shaped burn tattoo that shifted was in a rather visible place, and unless she donned gloves or something like that to hide the mark, it would bring some question. A lot of questions, most likely, and she wouldn't really be able to give a good enough lie. "So what else did I miss while I was out?"

"That," Annabeth sighed. "Is a long story, mainly because it involves Percy, the magnet for everything dangerous."

"I've got time," Thalia assured.

Demigod luck and jinxes had to kick in just at that moment as the entire population of the Hunters of Artemis spilled into the room all at the same time. "Thalia!"

"No," Annabeth managed to tell her before she was shoved out of the room by eager eternally young girls dressed in silver. "No, you don't."

The door closed on the blonde, and Thalia smiled at her sisters-in-arms, hiding the slight irritation she felt at the delayed information. Still, these people were her family, and she understood how they felt as she read their faces, picking up relief to downright joy at seeing her awake.

So she did the most leader-like thing ever, and waved with her unmarked hand. "What's up?"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"You're Wrath."

Jason had been hoping for a different, happy answer, something like 'No, child, I am your uncle removed three times on your mother's side that's here to help you win', but his hopes were dashed. "I am," he rumbled.

Alright, he was jealous of the voice. It was like Fear's, but it was more natural, like he'd been born to have a voice like that. Compared to his, Fear had been a cawing crow to a snarling, majestic lion or – seeing the killer of his friend – bear. "Want to give me an explanation to why you killed my friend?" Jason asked, wondering how he was calm.

Wrath raised an eyebrow. "I heard rumors of an impressive praetor of Rome called Jason Grace who had fought and destroyed a Titan on his own. I did not hear anything about a child who whines about everything. Evidently, my spies will have to be dealt with."

He spoke so casually that Jason thought for a moment his spies were inanimate things. Then, reality sunk in. "You're going to kill the people that work for you?"

"I have no need for useless things or idle chatter," Wrath said coldly. "My mission is time-consuming enough as it is."

Jason gripped his golden sword, anger beginning to bubble. Gwen had been killed, suddenly and unexpectedly, and it was a terrible death. Every death of a friend was terrible, but the fact that she had been hit by surprise, had died before a chance to give a decent fight by the orders of someone who didn't even care much about the lives of others made him furious. "Well then," he snapped. "I'm sorry to say that I may have to make it even more time-consuming."

The bear snarled, and began to move forwards slowly and deliberately when Wrath reached out and grabbed the bear's fur, instantly changing the large, kill-hungry mammal into a cold deadly blade of black metal, a _spatha_ that he clearly had no problems wielding on foot. "Interesting death wish," Wrath told him casually. "'I want to waste your time.' Brave, but you will regret it in the time before you die."

Those were fancy-but-short, movie-worthy words. Wrath struck, and Jason lifted his sword barely in time. The man was fast. He was strong. He had a longer weapon. Worst of all, he was really good. Jason began to run a current of electricity over his skin, ignoring the sheen of sweat he could feel forming. He yelled, and with a loud pop, a bolt of lightning gathered from his body and flew from his left hand fingers into Wrath's face.

While the Sin was distracted for that split second, Jason slashed at his neck. If he was anything like Fear – or Lust – then pain wouldn't do anything to slow him down and give him chinks in his armor, both figurative and real. He had to hope that decapitating him would 'drain his resources', as Sloth had claimed.

This was where Jason made a stupid mistake that even new campers didn't make half the time. He had forgotten about the armor. The golden sword struck at some kind of neck guard, and in the short time where the blade was hovering awkwardly around Wrath's neck, not capable of doing damage in that time, Wrath grabbed the golden sword, wrenching it out of his hands, and tossed it far away. It wouldn't come back for some time, and though he could see other campers coming his way with their own weapons raised, he knew that they wouldn't reach here in the time it would take for Wrath to kill him like an annoying bug. Not without some kind of distraction holding him off, anyways.

So he decided to leave it to instinct by lunging and tackling Wrath, wrapping his arms around his knees like a football player and barreling him down by the force of the short, sudden run towards him.

It worked, much to both his and Wrath's surprise. The Sin clearly had not been expecting a football move – the all-American sport, a part of his mind joked – and had staggered, pausing in his plan to figure out what to do with this sudden unexpected spike in the wheel.

By that time, the first camper had reached him. Dakota, skin around his mouth stained red from his Kool-Aid was furious, shouting things that didn't quite make sense even for a demigod as he stabbed at the green-eyed man over and over again, tears in his slowly maddening eyes. The blood of Bacchus was showing slightly there. Jason grabbed Wrath, wrapping his hands around his neck, but was forced to let go when one of Dakota's uncontrolled strikes had nearly cut both of his arms off. Not enough coordination between the two. This would let Wrath escape. Jason tried harder to pin him down.

Dakota paused after one particularly harsh strike, and in that split second, the tides changed. "If you had truly loved her, you should have told her," Wrath said quietly from the ground where he was wrestling with Jason. Sadly, Jason was losing, and getting pummeled, though he could feel that Wrath was restraining himself, barely exerting any real talent or skill. Dakota froze as Wrath continued to speak, voice deceptively soft but harsh in words. "But instead, you always treated her coldly, making her slowly doubt herself. She died thinking that, and she'll always think of you and the drink that was more precious to you than she was to you. It's your entire fault."

Dakota staggered back as if he'd been sucker-punched, and his arm lowered. That particular distracting annoyance settled and only one more left to deal with, Wrath slapped the side of Jason's head, and while he was dizzy, grabbed him by the cuff of his neck like he was a puppy and then tossed him away. Jason landed head-first on the ground twenty feet away, and groaned at the pain. He felt his coin return in his pocket, and bit back another groan. _Now_ it appeared.

He forced himself up, telling himself that he didn't care about his appearance at all as he flipped his coin into a weapon. Lance. Extra distance, but would it do some good? His opponent did have a weapon with some considerable length as well, and from the way he hit with the cavalry sword on foot, he was good at fighting in pretty much any style.

Jason grabbed the weapon anyways, and ran back to Wrath, who was not fighting and beating the crap out of Dakota – which was unfair – but rather talking quietly. The son of Bacchus was crying openly now, and he looked shattered beyond repair.

"Step away from him!" Jason yelled, and called on his own anger and the powers of his father's blood running through his veins. He thought about how he'd been pulled away by Fear. How he'd been put in a cage, trapped until someone had to come to his rescue. How he'd done nothing but watch as that one dude, Percy, had stepped in to save Sloth from her brother. How Gwen was dead because he hadn't seen the bear – a huge, freaking bear that should have been impossible to miss – coming to kill her. How Dakota seemed insane now.

The rage burned, and he raised his lance with a scream that could have been made of either defiance or relief. Lightning arced down from the heavens and the storm clouds that had gathered slowly around the top of their heads, and crackled as it flew to the tip of his lance before he pointed it at the man in black armor, letting his fury and the weapon of the skies strike Wrath with all the might he could muster.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Thalia's awake," Annabeth told them after giving Percy a kiss and a punch at the same time.

Bianca blinked, and Nico shifted. "Maybe we'll go visit after the Hunters leave," Nico suggested.

Oh. Percy could see why both di Angelos looked rather uncomfortable. Bianca had been a Huntress back before she died, and now that she had another chance at life, she had chosen life as an ordinary demigod. She must have been worried that Thalia would hold something against her, being the lieutenant of Artemis and the leader of the Hunt and all that.

Percy, on the other hand, didn't have such personal iffy issues, other than the one time when Thalia had nearly killed him with lightning. To be fair, he'd been trying to drown her at the same time, but neither really mattered. They were good friends.

"Well, I'll go say hi now," he told them, sheathing Riptide and changing it back into a pen. "She could do with a few males in the room after waking."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Jason fell to his knees, and a wave of dizzying darkness nearly overtook his consciousness. He struggled, and the darkness retreated, though it left the dizziness and spots of light in his vision. His stomach growled, and every single part of his body screamed in protest, telling him just how close he had come to dying or overexerting himself.

Wrath had been blasted back, but he was still on his feet, though more annoyed. "Impressive," he admitted, removing one part of the armor to rub a wound under the protective black metal. "But that was all you had."

He wanted to say that it wasn't, stand, and charge him heroically, but he couldn't. That had been an ace of an ace, and he didn't even have a two to use against him now.

Exhausted, he watched as Wrath began to slowly march towards him, sword ready to either stab or behead.

_Close your eyes! _A voice within his head screamed abruptly, so loudly and demanding that he automatically screwed his eyes shut without even thinking of how cowardly this would seem. It was lucky that he listened. His sight, blindfolded by his eyelids, suddenly turned red and bright, on the borderline of being painful as what had to be a supernova went off in front of him. Had he not closed his eyes, he would have either gone blind . . . or been obliterated.

Jason could guess what kind of living being had come. When the light faded, he opened his eyes, and was met with the sight of two men in armor and grim stances with their backs to him. He was also, surprisingly, met with the back of a head rather familiar to him. He had just seen the back of that very head a few days ago, and though he hadn't recognized it back in the moment, had heard her voice screaming at him not even a minute before, warning him to close his eyes.

"Sloth?"

* * *

I made the deadline! Yes!


	6. Disobeying Orders

"It _is_ your brother," Vulcan commented to Sloth while shifting a large, fiery hammer in his hands. "So you weren't lying when you said it was Wrath."

"I guessed," Sloth objected. "How do I lie in a guess?"

Jason frowned. It may have been his imagination from the death of his friend and lack of energy. . . but it felt as if his strength was slowly returning, his muscles loosening and relaxing to the point where he felt fresh and well-rested.

He must have been hallucinating.

"Move," Wrath ordered, twirling his sword. "I was supposed to have a good fight with this kid, but he's pathetic. He must die to atone for his mistakes."

Jason noticed that Wrath, like Sloth, mixed modern and older ways of speaking. Perhaps it was because of English being a constantly changing language, or perhaps his ancient age, but it was kind of cool. Not counting the fact that his words were currently telling everyone that he sucked at fighting and deserved to die, of course. He hardened the grip on his golden lance. Jason could now actually _feel_ his strength returning to him for real, faster than natural, and he planned on giving Wrath a real fight now. He'd go down fighting.

At least, that was his plan before he was distracted by one tiny thing. Slightly turning towards him, Sloth winked just a bit, throwing Jason off guard and into confusion. What did the wink mean? Did she have a secret she knew about him? On how he suspected that the Greek Gods hadn't died out at all? Jason knew that this knowledge would be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands – Octavian's – and he had continuously kept his mouth shut.

The next second, before he could get his next thought out, he had been tackled to the ground. Jason blinked and looked up to see Sloth pinning him on the ground, fully grown as an adult woman.

Not that it wasn't the fantasy of every teenage boy in history to be pinned by an attractive, older woman. . . but still. . . it was a bit awkward.

"Get off him!" roughly, Apollo grabbed Sloth and yanked her off. "What do you think you're doing?"

Wrath snarled, a feral, wild, animal sound. Apollo notched an arrow and shot it towards the man with blinding speed and deadly accuracy, but he smashed it out of the air and burst into green fire, disappearing from their sight.

Sloth tapped Apollo's shoulder, making him tense up, and handed him something. "The praetor would have died an extremely slow, agonizing death if I hadn't done that," she said quietly as Apollo held up the object she had given him to examine it, a dart with a razor-sharp edge. The greenish tinge to it told Jason of the high probability of it being poisoned. "Of course," she added as Vulcan followed a few trails of fire in the air and Apollo began to run across the plains, searching for Wrath and healing a few hurt demigods along his way. "That means I missed the chance to get my brother, and let him go after the nearly-assassin, so there goes my chance to prove myself."

It was like she was commenting on the weather, the way she so carelessly dismissed that. Jason got up from the ground, avoiding direct eye contact in surprising shame. Of _course_ they would still treat her like a criminal, and make her actually _prove_ herself for their cause against the rest of the Sins. He had been the reason why they couldn't catch Wrath.

But speaking of the Sin. . . "Why was Wrath here?" he asked, curiosity unable to be held back. "I thought that we could have two months of preparation time."

"You were supposed to," Sloth admitted. "But that's only what the Sins like to call 'official' war, with armies, commanders, banners, weapons and all the things like that. As Wrath was alone – Ira being the exception – this was nothing except an instance of disobeying orders from superiors."

"Superiors?" Jason's mind flashed back to Las Vegas, and the names of the two who were supposed to be the ones in charge of most of the Sins. "Pride and Greed?"

"Wrath's boss is Pride. She probably shut her eyes, cranked up music and pretended to not notice Wrath leaving to come here. Actually, she most likely encouraged it," Sloth crouched and tapped the side of Gwen's head with her finger. Jason felt a bit sick, seeing the head connected to nothing, her body a bit further away. Gwen's head, bloodied and a bit crushed, shimmered before disappearing and then reappearing reattached onto her body, fresh and clean. Now his friend looked more like she was sleeping, rather than murdered. Sloth moved onto Dakota, who had been knocked unconscious by Wrath. "Besides, I'm sure the orders were extremely specific to have plenty of loopholes, such as 'you may not lead an attack with more than three people', or 'you may not attack Manhattan'. Pride and Greed are very creative with such things; I'm sure they had a great time coming up with them."

"What's in Manhattan that makes it special enough to be attacked by Wrath before the grace period?" Jason asked, suspecting the answer. On the other side of the country, a special place to the United States of America where the torch of Western Civilization could burn properly, as well as the place where Mount Olympus – the Empire State Building at the moment – was. If the Greek Camp existed – which it did, he knew – then it had to be somewhere around that general area. Maybe as far as Brooklyn, but not much farther.

Sloth grinned cheekily at him as she looked up from tapping Dakota's unconscious head. "The UN Headquarters, naturally."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"You've never been claimed."

Piper looked up from her knife. After arrival on camp, one of the campers from the Athena Cabin – a tough girl named Annabeth – had gotten her a weapon of her own, a dagger that had formerly belonged to _the_ Helen of Troy, who had used it as a mirror, or looking glass. She had wondered if she should have treated it with a bit more delicacy, but Annabeth had assured her that this was their heritage and birthright.

The counselor, Drew Tanaka, of the Aphrodite Cabin and her _half_-sister was looking down at her. Piper admitted that Drew was pretty – gorgeous was a better word, actually – but still, the way that she abused her power caused instant dislike towards her. Apparently, her careless, choppy hair and worn clothes did the same for Drew.

"I mean, you've never had the Blessing of Aphrodite, judging from your appearance since you've been here," Drew continued. "So obviously, there had to be some kind of mistake, right? We only put you in here because _you_ claimed to be a daughter of my mother, but hon, really, there's no way that it's possible. She's, like, the goddess of _beauty_, and you're a _far_ cry from that."

Piper blinked. To be honest, the woman called Aphrodite at the Council Room in Olympus hadn't really acknowledged her, not even making eye contact or shooting a smile towards her. If she had been her child, she'd have said something, right? The only woman her father had loved. . . couldn't be a bad person, could she have? She had to have loved the sad-eyed, handsome Tristan McLean.

But maybe, maybe there was a chance that she was the child of some other female god, any other female god than the goddess of pink and makeup. Maybe the Charmspeak was really another ability that was similar.

"You must be right," Piper agreed, sheathing her knife and getting up from her bunk. "I can't be a child of Aphrodite."

Drew looked taken aback for a moment, but she composed herself within a heartbeat. "Glad you can see sense in some things, darling," she blew on her nails casually, not quite looking her in the eye. "I mean, your fashion sense could be improved _a_ _lot_, but it's good you're _somewhat_ smart."

To be honest, Piper wasn't really listening to her ex-half-sister. Where did she go now? The life-sized pink Barbie house hadn't been her dream summer house, but at least it had been a place where she knew her place. To step out and question the heritage declared to her by a flirting demon was to step into the unknown. And what if her mother happened to be a worse choice than Aphrodite? The thought was terrifying.

Not like she had a choice now, after her mouth had blabbed herself into a corner. Piper mentally steeled herself, just like she did when she went up to strangers and asked for valuable objects, and walked out of the Cabin in what she hoped to be a determined walk, but was probably a dejected shuffle in reality.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Just like of you to get into trouble, Percy," Thalia sighed as she shuffled around a bit on her bed. After the Hunters had left – a procedure that had taken a lot of debates on the honor and morality of Percy and then most boys – they had gone over their story, as best as he could tell Thalia. The eternal maiden hadn't really been impressed. "But at least you managed to finish the quest in one day, despite the three day time limit. It's a first for you to not cut it so close, isn't it?"

"Come to think of it," Annabeth smiled a bit. "It is. Maybe his luck's finally changing."

"But then again, he's brought in a whole batch of new enemies," Thalia glared this time. "Really, water boy, wasn't the Titans enough for you?"

"Hey, you make it sound like it was my fault," Percy tried to defend himself. Thalia could have quite a scary glare. "It wasn't this time, and I'm not another subject for a Great Prophecy, so this time. . ."

"Didn't Rachel give what was said to be the Next Great Prophecy?"

"Something about seven, and since there are seven of the Deadly Sins, according to the guidebook, maybe that's what it refers to?"

"No, it was about seven half-bloods answering a call or something, not the seven sins," Annabeth stood up. "I don't have the exact wording, but I'll go get a copy."

They both watched shut the door of the infirmary behind her. Thalia spoke first, breaking the silence. "See? _She's_ smart."

"Hey!"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Jason Grace, you may be a devoted praetor of Camp Jupiter and the Twelfth Region, but there is no way I am letting that _thing_ into my city!" the statue of the guardian god was hopping around, clearly angry. His current focus of anger happened to be the black-haired Sloth in teenage form again.

"But Terminus-"

"No!" he squawked. "I may not have existed when that abomination came into being, or was caught and supposedly dispelled, but I know chaos and evil when I see it!"

Jason risked looking away to sneak a peek at Sloth, who just looked mildly amused at the minor god ranting about her being a supposed agent of evil and an object. Well, she could be considered one, technically, and Terminus did like technicalities, but she was supposed to be on their side now. The good side.

"It's alright," Sloth interrupted the beginning of Terminus's third 'reasons why we can't trust Sloth' speech. "I think I have to go back to Olympus anyways. Apollo and Hephaestus will have to escort me back, anyways."

Terminus let out a hacking, strangled sound. "That's enough, you evil woman!"

But it was too late. Jason had already noticed the use of Vulcan's Greek name, 'Hephaestus'. Sloth, being as old as she was, probably knew some, if not all, the facts about the other Greek side of the gods, and had most likely used the wrong name on purpose to provoke Terminus. He was a strictly-Roman god, and unless he wanted to hide something, he shouldn't have reacted like that unless it was something Sloth had said.

The only question was why? She had denied it before, hadn't she, when he asked what was in Manhattan?

Unless. . . Unless the answer she gave, the UN Headquarters, was some kind of a clue.

Sloth was once again grinning cheekily, and although it wasn't directed at him, Jason knew that it was supposed to have some kind of meaning to him, some kind of message.

Well, message received. He'd have to check out the UN Headquarters as soon as possible, preferably before the mortals woke up and without getting into trouble.

Jason began to form a plan while Sloth irritated Terminus with mild remarks about New Rome.

* * *

Don't own anything, vote on poll, check out forum (link on profile), reviews appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	7. Two out of What?

Outside of the pink-and-lacy Cabin, Piper finally remembered that she did, in fact, have material possessions of her own. Several, in fact, all of them gathered from when she had walked across the borders into camp, generously donated for a good cause – to make sure teenage demigod girls didn't go around in the same clothes day after day, or naked. Piper decided to gather the collection of clothes, shoes, and toiletries given to her by her former half-siblings later, and made her way to the Big House. First things first. The legendary centaur from Greek Myths, Chiron, had told her to ask questions on things she didn't understand, or she might end up falling into a trap by monsters and die hideous, painful deaths or be forced to marry a weird thing all because of a lack of knowledge. She figured after a few millennia of training kids to fight for their lives and right to choose whom to marry, his optimism was a bit low in stock.

Halfway to the farmhouse thing, the skin on the back of her neck crawled, and the hair rose as a chill went down her spine. What had everyone told her? To trust her demigod senses, because chances were, it would save her nine out of ten times. The other one time would most likely be either a very skilled monster, or a brick thrown from the skies.

Piper unsheathed her new knife. After all those years of being nothing more than a mirror, maybe it would be able to draw some blood in her hands.

The thought made her nearly drop the bronze blade. What had that random thing floating in her mind been?! At the last moment, she regained her grip over the handle and kept it in her hands. She had to just be paranoid. There was no way that something would be in the borders when everyone admitted that it was almost improbable-

"Hello."

This time, she _did_ drop her knife as she spun around, nearly falling over as she did so. Piper winced at the soft thud of the blade falling on grass, and dove after the knife, only to have someone smash their head into her own. "Ow!"

"Ouch!" the other person winced, and rubbed their head. The knife lay between them, still waiting to be picked up. "Terribly sorry about that, I wasn't paying nearly as much attention as I should have been. Actually, I should have minded my own business. You clearly had everything under control."

Piper picked up her knife and shoved it back into the sheath. Stupid thing. She wondered if she could get an exchange or something. At the time, it had been the perfect fit for her, or so she had thought, but thinking now, maybe she was better off with something else. A few images had flickered on the reflective surface, and what she saw wasn't very likeable. Hopefully they were nothing but nightmares and twisted daydreams that she mistook as reality.

"Again, I'm really sorry," the other guy was talking still. "I mean, sneaking up on a demigod, not a good idea at all-"

Piper narrowed her eyes, trying to study the clumsy yet well-meaning person. The guy had to be seventeen at the least, and he was pretty lean, although he had rather baggy clothes. She couldn't see his eyes, because they were hidden by his shaggy brown hair and baseball cap, and that made her, for some reason, a bit uneasy. He was, she supposed, good looking even with the whole hidden eyes concept, a straight nose, high cheekbones, clear skin and the works, though not her type.

_Gods_, she had spent too much time in the Aphrodite Cabin. If she began to get the urge to apply makeup and dress in designer clothes, she would throw herself under the wheels of the nearest fast-moving truck and put a quick end to it all.

"Have we met before?" she blurted out, and the guy fell silent. The question had randomly burst out in an attempt to try and get him to shut up about how sorry he was for not looking where he was trying to pick up her knife for her, but now that it was in the air, Piper thought that she recognized him, almost. Something familiar was definitely there, though she knew it wasn't at camp when she had seen him.

The guy studied her with hidden eyes, and she tried to not squirm. Everything about this guy – even if he should have been a normal teen, or at least another demigod – was both relaxing and disturbing. She didn't know whether to treat him like friend or foe, or just stab him.

"No, not in person, I think," the guy grinned at her, showing her his straight, even white teeth, and extended a friendly hand to shake. "But I hear the present's a time as good as any. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

She took his hand and shook it gingerly, releasing it as soon as it wouldn't have been considered rude. "I'm Piper."

He nodded, acknowledging her name. "Nice to meet you. My name is Gluttony."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

If two broken legs – on the verge of healing thanks to ambrosia, nectar, and excellent healers, yes, but broken nonetheless – were supposed to keep someone in bed, resting their way of quick transportation, the people who had decided such hadn't met Praetor Reyna.

"Well?" she demanded, Aurum and Argentum at her sides. Both of the metallic hounds were growling slightly, glaring with their ruby eyes at the Sin who had invaded theirs and their mistress's property. "Why are we letting her stay here?"

She sounded impatient, but then again, she had broken her legs, her Pegasus – the method of transportation she would have used in other broken-legged circumstances – also had a few broken bones. Jason figured that her patience had been used up in the last few days.

"Because Lupa and the gods say so?" he offered, really not having much else to say.

Reyna shot a look to Sloth, who was currently sitting on grass, listening to music on an mp3 player that her cat had turned into. Terminus' determination on not letting Sloth enter his beloved city had bent after Sloth had yawned right in his statue face, letting her in with only dazed protests contrasting with his sluggish actions. Jason disapproved of the rule-bending, but he had to admit that it was pretty cool.

"I don't trust her," she said flatly.

He had been expecting that. "Come on, Reyna, this is strategy! She's like our informant, only she's no longer hidden in the other side! Warfare, plain and simple."

Jason received a flat look in response from the daughter of the war goddess. "It's not a popular Roman method of war."

"War is war," he replied. "And you know that having a Sin would help. Think of all the advantages! We wouldn't have to fight things like Fear without any previous knowledge now. Less people randomly kidnapped."

Reyna made a regally annoyed face, which was sort of her specialty. Regal, and annoyed. "Doesn't mean that we can trust her, does it?"

Jason looked around a bit. "She did jump in front of a poisoned dart that was supposed to kill me. She saved me, Reyna. If she wasn't going to be on our side, I don't think she would have done that."

"It could have been to fool us," Reyna said, but she was weakening. He could see it happening.

"She killed her own brother. And I know for a fact that she loved him," he said softly, thinking back to the earliest memories when there was a sister in his life. The memories were so faint, and every passing day they kept fading a bit further. One day, he feared that he'd never remember. "You can't fake that kind of love."

Reyna caved, most likely thinking of her own sibling. "Alright, so I'll try to not be too begrudging of the fact that someone who's been an enemy to us-"

"Secretly," Jason said, determined to go on protecting Sloth till the last minute. To have to kill your own sibling, and your favorite brother at that. . .

Although, the 'secretly' part was more of reminding Reyna that no one had known of the Sins until now.

"Secretly until now is staying with us, _in our city_, despite the madness of that," Reyna finished. "Happy?"

"Thanks."

She waved it off. "Now go and try to convince rest of New Rome that your idea is a good one."

It was a rare joke. He grinned.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Thalia would have liked to call it adopted sister telepathy, demigod senses, or even just uncanny deducting skills, but the truth was, it was the moving tattoo on the back of her hand that told her – and Annabeth – what they had to do.

The daughter of Athena tossed the copy of the prophecy on the bed, and then pulled the son of Poseidon up by his arm. "Alright, Percy, get out!" Annabeth ordered as she pushed her boyfriend out. "Time for girl talk."

"But Thalia just woke up!" Percy protested as he lost ground. "Besides, it's not like-"

"If you're implying that I'm not a _girl_, Percy Jackson," Thalia growled, and he flinched a bit, much to her satisfaction. "I swear, you will never be able to become a biological father in your short and danger-filled life."

Percy lost even more ground under the fear of her glares and the physical eviction of Annabeth's pushes. He was nearly out of the room now. "I wasn't going to say that you weren't a girl!"

Thalia raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"_Really_!" By that time, his entire body was out of the infirmary.

"Yeah, that's great, see you!" Annabeth slammed the door, and then put her ear against it to check for fading footsteps Thalia could hear on her bed. "He's gone," she announced.

"Good," Thalia removed her numb, squashed hand from under her leg. "I didn't know before, but it's a weird feeling I have on my hand. Whenever you come closer, the back of my hand gets hotter. When you leave though, it cools down. Didn't realize it until you came for a visit and then left for the prophecy, I suppose."

"Same," Annabeth sat on her bed and then examined the back of her hand. "So yours is on your hand. . . Well, that makes it both easier and harder for you, I suppose. Easy to see, harder to hide. Wish I had that problem."

"Why? Where's yours at?"

Annabeth made a face. "On my back."

Thalia burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

"Yes! And it's on the exact other side as my navel!"

The Huntress laughed even harder. "Oh, gods, instead of a belly button, you get a back tattoo."

"I don't get why that's funny," Annabeth sniffed.

"Me neither," she shook it off. "Guess I'm enjoying being awake. So, guess that this is our way of being called on the prophecy, huh?"

"Did yours appear while you were in a dream, too?"

"Try nightmare," she tossed her short hair back, or as back as it would be flung in its limited length. "But yes, I was branded while my conscious tried to track down a weird man in the stereotypical black pit in the middle of nowhere. From what you told me, this guy sounds like a Sin. The fire guy."

"Wrath," Annabeth nodded. "Red hair cropped short, green eyes, tall, pretty good looking and muscular-"

"I'm not going to say anything about his _looks_, Annabeth, I'm a _Hunter_!"

"-bit of a temper, wants to fight, controls fire?"

"That's about it," Thalia stroked her mark. The whatever-this-thing-could-be-called shifted a bit, and warmth flickered across her skin like she was holding it near a fireplace. "I mean, he was crazy, and most likely a bit of a shizo, seeing and wanting to fight dead guys and all, but that's him. Wonder who else has a mark like this?"

"Maybe we could tell Chiron."

"The Hunters, too. Any of them would have been freaked out if a guy randomly popped into their dreams and branded them with some kind of Greek Fire after sprouting a few old-fashioned words. If they know _I_ have it, then they might feel better about coming out with it."

"Sounds like a confession about their sexuality rather than admitting that they were chosen for a quest, if you ask me."

"Now that you mention it, yes, it does sound like that."

* * *

Does everything feel too slow? Should I throw a bit more chaos in there?


	8. Botanic Toxins

"Oh, and please, don't scream, call for help, try to run, or try to stab me with your knife," the person who called himself Gluttony told her while Piper tried to recover from the shock of finding a Sin – inside the _supposedly_-safe camp borders – so easily, right in front of her.

Her mind cleared itself up surprisingly fast. One of the six remaining Sins who had declared war on them, a war which was to take place in two months' time was here, apparently to attack or something just as devious, and at the moment, no one seemed to know except her, who was with the guy. Alone.

Not what she'd call a good situation.

_'Hi, mom, Aphrodite or whoever you are, please, there's Public Enemy Number Something-from-One-to-Six here, want to help?'_

Naturally, her unknown godly parent at the moment didn't send anything extremely convenient and helpful (like a lightning bolt out of the blue that could fry Gluttony) and she was on her own not-doing-anything self. Mind, it wasn't that Piper wouldn't have screamed, called for help, or anything that might go against Gluttony's instructions. . .

It was, sadly and pathetically, that she _couldn't_. Her entire body was, at the moment, rather paralyzed.

"You should really pay more attention, you know," Gluttony told her casually. "How could you _not_ feel a needle prickling your skin to inject paralysing venoms into your body?"

She had never felt a needle prick on her body. Piper tried to raise her eyebrows at him in question, but she couldn't even manage that much. Irritating.

"Granted, the needle is quite thin, but I thought demigods were supposed to be good at these kinds of things. Don't worry; the toxins I used are all-natural, plant-based, one hundred percent organic. So they're better for your body than artificial, chemically brewed up poisons."

Piper felt a new urge within her – the urge to flip the middle finger and let this brown-haired man bask in the meaning of that one taboo finger. Shame she couldn't move.

"Pathetic, really, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected too much from a daughter of Aphrodite," Gluttony snapped his fingers. "Enjoy the show, and tell my brother that this is all for his sake, would you? If you survive, that is. His wrath is legendary amongst the darker parts of the world."

Oh, he was definitely a Sin. All talk about him and his siblings, nothing really important. He – as well as Lust and Sloth, though to a lesser degree – were all rather. . . _Artificial_.

Piper did not like artificial. She also did not like being forced into paralysis to await some kind of fate like a damsel in distress while the evil villain faded away magically.

Shame she had no control of the situation at the moment. Gritting her teeth, Piper began her attempts to fight the invisible holds over her body.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"So if I see a Sin, I need to be as virtuous as possible while trying to keep myself from being influenced by them?"

Sloth nodded. She had been telling Reyna and Jason everything she could about her kind before the 'official' presentation she was supposed to give. She called it rehearsal. "That's pretty much everything."

Reyna frowned. "That's. . . actually very little we can do, then."

Jason had to agree with that. The way Sloth described what her siblings could and would do – he still had a hard time thinking about candy leaping from store displays to try and kill everything with lollipop sticks – they were strong as gods. Maybe stronger.

"Of course, if you managed to get one of the Virtues to bless something for you, then you'd have a pretty good advantage. Let's say you were against Gluttony in a dramatic, old-fashioned swordfight. The best thing to take to that fight is not a gun, like popular belief, but anything that's been touched by either Temperance or Patience."

"What if the gun was blessed by them?" Jason couldn't help but ask.

Reyna kept her head and asked a smarter question. "Why Patience? I thought she was the Virtue off-setting Wrath's power?"

"In that case, the gun would be very effective, as long as you knew how to shoot extremely well. Gluttony is very tricky in matters involving guns and edible items," Sloth nodded to Jason, and then faced Reyna. "Good question."

"Thank you."

Sloth cracked her neck. "Before I give the straight-forward, direct answer, let me go over one of the ways the Sins like to categorize ourselves and our mortal enemies.

"There are lots of ways to categorize things, even the most basic ones. We had a huge fight over what to call each and every characteristic of what to call who and who to call what. It was one of the few fights I actually didn't stay asleep through."

"Wow, what a huge accomplishment," Reyna said sarcastically.

"Why, thank you," Sloth smiled, actually complimented. "But most of the characteristics of each and every one of the fourteen are rather diverse. Most of them. Some are very similar, such as Envy, Pride and Wrath. A person guilty of one could easily commit any of the other two Sins. Proud people learning of others with more talent, more skill, becoming bitter with jealousy, and then that bitterness becoming harsh, burning fire of rage. . . A most likely scenario, don't you think?"

Reyna looked a bit freaked out at the sudden change in the way only Reyna's close friends could possibly have a chance of telling. A wide pair of eyes, tense stance, and wary glances, as well as hands ready for fighting, all things similar to her normal ultimate-Roman-Leader condition, but slightly different.

Jason grimaced at Sloth's sudden change to macabre musings of humanity. "Temperance and Patience?" he prompted.

"Oh," Sloth snapped out of whatever (most likely morbid) daydream she'd been having. "Right."

He would swear to his father's throne that she sounded disappointed.

"In the case of the Sins, Envy, Pride and Wrath are the most similar to each other, Envy and Wrath especially. That's why they're each other's favorites, by the way. Amongst the Virtues, though, it's Temperance, Patience, and Chastity that are most alike, even if only Temperance and Patience have any _real_ sway over Gluttony."

"Because they restrain themselves?" Jason guessed.

"That's right. Because of that restraining ability, we call them 'Restrainers'. Or 'Dampeners', depending on the Sin you talk to."

"What do _you_ call them?"

"Dampeners. I like that word," Sloth shot them a lazy smile. "Don't you? But really. . . The shame about everything – for my siblings, that is – is that they have only one Dampener, while the Virtues have three. Two at the moment, but that's still quite crippling."

Jason guessed the answer before Reyna asked the question. "Who?"

"Me," she beamed now. "Guess I should have said 'had a Dampener' instead, huh?"

The son of Jupiter concluded, after some hours of observing her, that Sloth was just weird.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Actually, unknown to Piper, Gluttony hadn't just mysteriously faded away like she had thought. All he had done was make himself invisible – easy, simple magic – and had then silently climbed up the nearest, tallest tree, making himself comfortable in the top where the strong, thick branches came together to form some kind of cradle.

The air shimmered, and he took in a deep breath, enjoying the sudden burst of oxygen as an angry girl manifested on the neighboring branch. His hand snapped out, and he grabbed one of her wrists, preventing her from smacking him with a club. Her green eyes widened, and her grip on her weapon slackened. He pried it away gently, bringing his face quite close to hers.

"Shh," he hushed the tree nymph that had come out to protest, putting a finger against his lips. "I'm sorry, but I can't have you making such unnecessary racket. Please excuse me, and allow me to hide here for some time."

The nymph blushed, and nodded furiously before poofing out of physical form. Smiling, Gluttony leaned back and began petting one of the branches. "I always did like oak," he mentioned casually.

The large, strong tree quivered under his fingers. Gluttony grinned. Ah, the effects he could have on anything botanic or plant-related.

Now. . . Still petting the slightly-quivering oak, he leaned back against one of the thickest branches and watched through the leaves, eyes set on the poisoned demigod.

If his brother finally understood, then he'd be here within a few hours, which would be when the poisons would wear off.

_Then_. . .

Teeth glinted in the darkening air as he grinned at the thought. _Showtime_.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Notes," Hazel glared at the sheet of paper in her hands. "Of all the stupid things in the world. . ."

The words written on her paper were, in the eyes of a semi-average person who had a decent enough life, the words of some lunatic who was obsessed with the Seven Deadly Sins and their counter Virtues. That had been Sloth's very words when she had made everyone write it down.

As it was. . . She now knew which Sin was most prone to the attack of which Virtue, and who to beg for a blessing when one came after her.

Handy, if she ever _met_ the Virtues. Which she doubted.

Pride – Humility, Diligence

Greed – Charity, Temperance, Patience

Wrath – Patience, Temperance, Kindness

Envy – Kindness, Charity

Lust – Chastity, Temperance, Patience

Gluttony – Temperance, Patience, Charity

Sloth – Diligence, Charity

Hazel could just imagine it now. Being chased into a dark alley by the beautiful, pink-robed Envy, and stopping her frantic run at the devastating sight of a bricked up corner with nowhere to run, Envy murderous behind her. She would scream up into the sky, calling and summoning up either Kindness or Charity, who would then come swooping randomly out of the white clouds in the blue background like a superhero to bless the golden cavalry sword she had picked out for herself, never mind the dragging length of the thing. And then, just as she braved herself and charged with the newly-blessed sword, she would trip from unbalancing herself, fall, and stab herself. Then she would bleed to death while Envy watched, laughing and eating delicate pastries.

Hazel pushed back some of her stray hairs and tried to think of other things. Back when she had been in the Hotel, she had remembered some things from her previous life, but she had never made the connection. How was it that she could remember the size of her old house, but not her name?!

She wanted to ask Sloth, but there was still a huge line-up in the 'press conference', as the Sin had called it. Besides, she didn't really want the entire thing announced out for the world – the awake one – to hear.

Watching the line of curious people inch forward was boring, so Hazel instead set her sights to the hills, where the sun was beginning to sink near. It was a beautiful sight, with the green on the hills dancing with thousands of small shadows and the red of the setting sun making the air pink and rosy, warm –

Pink robes. Soft, long hair that was chocolate brown but also shone auburn near the light. Beautiful face. Deceiving voice. Pink eyes.

The nice thoughts of the sunset shattered as her mind made the connection between the pretty pink and the water-controlling Sin. Hazel's mood soured a bit. Now she'd never be able to fully appreciate a sunset.

At least horses and drawing hadn't been ruined for her.

Horses and drawing. . .

Her father. The last time she'd seen him, he had been a completely different man from the person who had tried to stop her mother and had given her the sketchbook and pencils for her birthday. Gods, she knew from what everyone had told her, could change their appearance to their will, but it felt more than that, like it was someone _similar_ to her sire Pluto, but not the _same_.

And they had even called him something different, too, in that magnificent room filled with giants. _Hades_. When she asked about that, everyone had told her to not speak the names of the former Greek aspects of now-Roman gods. They had told her, in the manner of one nervously joking to try and make the situation better, that ghosts were to remain dead. A pun for the sake of her bloodline, she was sure.

The bloodline that kept her an outcast. Only Gwen had been nice to her – not counting Jason, who was rather busy – and Gwen had been killed by the Sin who had just been here. Wrath.

Everything came back to the Sins for her at the moment. Why had they brought her back to life? Her and Silver – Bianca, her mind whispered, correcting her own thoughts – were dead, that much she had gathered. The only issue was why. Her, apparently, the gods had a need for, but Bianca. . .

And her brother. She had had a brother, and the two were out there somewhere in this other camp that she'd been forbidden to speak about.

_'Are things _this_ messed-up for you too?'_ she asked silently, looking up the darkening sky. The night, the shades, and the darkness didn't bother her. Not normal ones, anyways_. 'I miss you, Silver. . .'_

* * *

I forgot to give Gluttony a thread in my forum. . . I'll do that now. . .


	9. Sparks

Her fingers were twitching. That was a good sign.

Piper wondered just how ridiculous she looked. A girl frozen like an awkward statue with fingers waving slightly. On a scale of one to ten, it probably ranked a million.

Gods, but she was so bored. It felt – and for once, it most likely had been – like it had been hours since Gluttony had supposedly jabbed her with a poisoned needle and paralyzed her there.

What if he'd been lying about the needle, and she was stuck here forever? That would have been absolutely horrible, especially with the certainty Gluttony had used when calling her a daughter of Aphrodite. Dylan could have been wrong, and so could have been Drew, but she doubted that Gluttony would make such a mistake.

Her mom had probably forgotten – on purpose – that she even had a daughter who didn't pay extra attention to makeup or designer brand clothes.

Piper missed her dad even more now. They hadn't exactly had the closest father-daughter relationship, but he was all she really had, and the knowledge of an immortal mom and a bajillion half-siblings did not make any difference to her.

Her toes began to twitch as they regained some of their mobility.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

The body of water that was out of the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood began to swirl and ripple, tinting a soft, glowing pink before a woman burst out of the whirlpool like a sea maiden. She shook out her hair, and stepped onto land, dragging a large, old-fashioned trunk like the ones used a hundred years ago.

At the same time, the air in front of her burst into green fire, and a man materialized inside the flames. The woman didn't even blink or avert her rose-colored eyes. Instead, she only rejoiced.

"Wrath," Envy smiled wryly as she examined her favorite brother. "It's been a long time."

If it had been anyone else – Lust and Gluttony – who said that, Wrath would have most likely hit them with a fireball, or Hellfire. As it was, he gave a grim smile. "Envy."

"What have you been up to?" she asked, idly twirling her hair, letting the setting sun's blood-red light shine and change her chocolate hair into auburn fire. "I felt something happen, but the barriers between the worlds made everything so unclear."

Wrath glanced into the forests, where a particularly red aura was fluxing, a beacon sending a clear message to him. "Going after an oath-breaker."

That was a terrible explanation, but Envy was smart, and understood immediately. "Gluttony ruined your fight again?"

"Hn," he grunted. As much as he loved Envy, he needed to get his idiotic brother. Now.

"Well then, I won't keep you," Envy stepped back. "Give him pain, would you? I had food attack me in Brooklyn."

An eruption of fire later, he was gone.

Envy tugged off a snake-shaped bangle, and tossed it to the trunk. Halfway there, the metallic jewelry changed in mid-air and landed as a real snake. "Take them, and make sure Pride gets them," she ordered Invidia. "And tell her not to let Greed get them. They're bait, not a gift."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Nico never really liked eating at camp.

Not that the food wasn't great – it was – but it was just the feeling of sitting alone at the gloomy Hades Table and watching most of the other campers enjoy themselves immensely with their siblings that made him, well, a bit jealous.

He didn't mind it now, when Bianca was there with him. The space around the Hades table was actually filled with laughter and happiness.

Their father would have rolled in the Underworld at this blasphemous behaviour from his children, but they didn't care at the moment.

Bianca was currently telling him about the day she had in archery class, and how she had dealt with a jerk of a demigod who had thought she was the 'loose' kind, now that she had quit the Hunters. "So then I shot the target-"

Nico blacked out, and his eyesight cleared to see not his sister's face, but a snarling red-haired man facing down another person in the shadows. A bit on the side was that girl, Piper. He only knew her name, and that she was in the Aphrodite Cabin.

_Wrath_, he decided, as he saw the redhead's hands burst into fire. That, and apparently Wrath had hellfire-green eyes. They were pretty hellfire-ish at the moment.

The person in the shadows merely bowed in an over-exaggerated, stage-ready manner, and disappeared. Like, actually just faded away into nothing, leaving the forest scenery.

Nico frowned. He recognized this scenery. It was the woods where everyone played Capture the Flag.

"Oh, crap!" he yelled when Wrath turned onto Piper. "Run!"

She didn't hear him, apparently, and therefore stayed in place, like she was frozen. Nico ground his teeth. Stupid Aphrodite kids! Why couldn't they-

No, wait. Piper's eyes were terrified, and her fingers were twitching like crazy. He doubted that she was trying to text – demigods couldn't really use technology without a horrible, horrible side effect – and it looked like her fingers were the only things capable of moving.

Like she was paralyzed.

And when paralyzed in the face of danger and/or enemies, demigods tended to die, slowly and painfully. Nine out of ten times, that was just what happened. It was almost expected for them to die painfully and young.

He blinked, and found himself staring at Bianca. "-and he was terrified after I knocked his hat off with my arrow-"

"Percy!" Nico yelled to the camp's personal fire fighter. "Come on!"

Without checking if the son of Poseidon was following, Nico charged into the direction of the woods. If things really got bad, he could try and bend the shadows to chill the fires out, but he couldn't really bring back a demigod to life. Actually, he could, but not without serious consequences.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Halfway during the tour-slash-buying Sloth some kind of snack Jason didn't even know they sold in New Rome, the Sin jerked and ended up throwing her drink – hot chocolate – all over Reyna.

Reyna was not amused. Neither were the rest of the Romans, who looked ready to throw anything they could get their hands on at Sloth.

"Sorry, sorry," Sloth waved a hand, and Reyna's chocolate-drenched status cured itself miraculously. "Had a vision."

"You see the future?" Please don't tell him she was like Octavian, please don't tell him she was like Octavian, _please_, dear gods, don't tell him that she was like Octavian!

"No, but I see things on the wind," Sloth squinted into thin air, the perfect image of a pretty girl off her rockers. "Fire, pink water, snake, treasure chest. . . ."

The Romans just shook their heads and returned to their daily lives. Jason's shoulders sank with mixed feelings. They wouldn't exactly consider Sloth a threat – not after that, they couldn't, even if they tried – but at the same time, she just wouldn't be respected enough here. Labelled as nothing but a magic-reliant supposed-god who betrayed her own and saw things in the 'wind', she'd have a tough time.

"Oh, Wrath, Gluttony, Piper McLean, more fire, dancing trees. . . ."

Jason looked at Sloth, who was just in her own world blurting out her random words. On second thought, maybe she'd be fine.

"Celestial Bronze dagger, Stygian Iron sword, hellhound. . . ."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

With a wave of his hand, power leapt out from his fingertips and held his brother's rage at bay.

Well, he was still angry, but the power of that rage wouldn't exactly set the tree on fire. He did like this one, particularly. Maybe he'd ask her out later. . . .

The red faltered, and the green began to advance, slowly but surely. Sighing at the temper his brother had – what happened to all those anger management sessions he'd been going to? – Gluttony slid out of his tree. "How's it going?" he asked, smiling widely.

Then, he had to duck as his brother let out a stream of super-hot fire at him. "Temper, temper."

Dryads were screaming as their trees caught on fire. There wasn't much he could do, not with Wrath here. When Wrath was around, it was like every fire got a burst of super-oxygen. Shame. These dryads were one of the prettiest he'd seen in a long time. . . . "Anyways, you needed three here, right?" he asked louder than his normal volume, making sure to be heard over the crackle of the super-heated flames. "Well, here's the third. Think you'll like her. Interesting parents."

What was the term Greed liked to use again? Oh, that's right. Hook, line, and sinker.

"I bid you adieu," he bowed, and faded away.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

The paralysis was fading. Her legs – but not her feet, no, of _course_ her luck wouldn't let _that_ happen – were loosened now.

Still not enough for her to try and run away screaming. The guy who had been trying to torch Gluttony now turned on her, and came to her in three steps, easy.

Her tongue was not free yet, so she couldn't ask nicely for him to either let her go or give her a car.

He stooped slightly, and looked right into her eyes. Piper fidgeted, trying to look away. They were really an intense green, and anyone would notice the colors even from far away, much like Sloth and Lust's eyes, but close up. . . .

They seemed so deep. Ancient. Filled not with just the green of hellfire, but an immense anger.

His lips twitched, but he didn't look away. "A daughter of Aphrodite, then," he said, contempt clear in his voice.

Damn. There went the theory of having another parent.

"Fitting for this role of being a traitor."

His hand clamped around her neck, and her mouth became free of paralysis at that moment. She screamed.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Nico turned and changed his direction just a bit when he heard the blood-curdling scream. "Hurry, Percy!" he yelled, but only increased his speed. "Hey, Piper!"

The scream cut off. Gritting his teeth, Nico ran faster, hand on the hilt of his sword. "Piper!"

He turned, avoiding a large oak tree, and found himself in the clearing. Wrath was there, holding Piper up by her neck, and the demigod was struggling to free herself, clawing at his wrist.

Nico noted in the split second that the few drops of blood against Wrath's pale skin was black, tinged with an eerie green. Interesting.

Then he sprang forward with his sword, fully intending to cut off Wrath's hand. "Let her go!" he yelled.

Wrath didn't even look at him. Instead, something black charged from the side and knocked him out of the way with more than necessary force, enough to throw him into the large oak he had just passed. Nico tried to blink and figure out just what those spinning stars were.

"Mrs. O'Leary!" another large, black and furry thing charged over his head, meeting the first black furry thing. The two things were beginning to rip at each other.

"Nico!" the voice. . . it was male, familiar, and worried.

"Percy?" his own voice sounded rather slurred.

"Concussion?" the son of Poseidon, a blurry figure with orange guessed. "I'll get you nectar or ambrosia after I get the fires out."

"Wait," he protested, and tried to stand. Bad idea. The blood in his head pounded, and he winced. All he could do was lower himself back against the tree as gently as possible. Too late he recalled the first aid instructions. No moving head injuries rashly. "Piper. Wrath strangling her."

Percy, ever the guy with the hero complex, stepped right into battle, bronze sword gleaming. There was definitely a shift in the air as the stream found itself suddenly empty of half its contents. Nico grimaced, and reached for a miniature flask of nectar. He lifted it to his lips, and somehow managed to suck a bit of the golden magic drink of the gods before he tipped the rest onto his wound. There was no way he was going to be able to tip his head back to drink the rest, not even a little bit.

The effects were magical. He chuckled slightly at the pun as he felt the bump shrink, the pain retract, and his vision clear up. Now his head wasn't even ringing anymore.

Could he stand up?

Nico tried, and found to his delight that he could. He picked up his black sword, and looked around properly for the first time.

Mrs. O'Leary the hellhound fighting a bear with green eyes. Alright, he'd seen weirder.

Percy, engaged in sword combat with Wrath. The Sin was using a Greek spear to knock aside Riptide, though it was certainly taking tolls on the wooden shaft. It looked to be a fairly even match.

Piper. Nico looked for the Aphrodite kid, and found her crawling around on the ground, coughing as she held her throat.

"Get out of there!" he stepped cautiously into the middle of the clearing. "It's not good to be in the middle of a fight, especially if Percy's in it. Achilles' Curse and all, he's a pretty unlucky guy."

The girl wasn't really listening. "My dagger," she rasped. "I dropped it when Gluttony was here."

Nico looked around, and found a bronze gleam in the grass a few feet away. He picked it up, and handed it to her. "Come on, let's get you away from here."

With trembling limbs, she managed to get on both feet, and leaned on him for support.

And then, Mrs. O'Leary got thrown into them by the bear with anger management problems.

* * *

I had a terrible time with this chapter. It took me two weeks.

On the other hand, it's now officially my second year on fanfiction! Yesterday was my 'birthday'.


	10. Wrath's Relationships I: The Sins

Out of all the Sins, Greed was the one who had the physical appearance most similar to him.

Out of all the Sins, the only Sin he didn't hate more than Greed was Gluttony.

In all fairness, Greed often did lead to his Sin being committed, and she did help spread his influence over Germany after the First World War. . . but he just didn't like her. Perhaps it was the way she always fought with Pride over who had the actual rights over the bones of the earth, or the way she held herself, haughty in a hidden way, like she was the adult indulging a brat.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she was Gluttony's favorite sibling, and favorited Gluttony out of all the Sins, of course. Nothing at all.

Outside of personal reasons and feelings, though, they got along well enough.

("Murder coming up, with a motive for a huge amount of money and hate. Coming?")

(". . .fine.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

He and Lust often had fights. Their elements, fire and lightning clashed in general, both of them fiery and burning, and they rubbed each other the wrong way. Lust never really took anything seriously enough, always more focused on the passion of the moment, the heat and all the want, while he tended to focus on destruction and the work.

Lust also fought often with Envy, and he always backed Envy. Somehow, every time, it ended as a fight between the two of them.

Occasionally they got along. Not enough times to ensure that they could stay in the same area for long without some kind of fight starting, but occasionally, they settled their disagreements and disputes enough.

("There's this guy, and he's pissed at this girl, but at the same time, there's this huge amount of sexual tension between the two, so he plans to-")

("No, I will not help you on this rape case of yours. Good-bye, Lust.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Pride was his second favorite sister. That meant he didn't try to hit her with a fireball, no matter how much of a brat she was.

That may have been more because of her being his 'boss'. . . .

He remembered this one time when a diverted legion of the Roman Army, lead by a now-long-forgotten minor god from the Roman Parthenon had run into the two of them in the mountains. That god, arrogant and foolish, had not known them, not known his own history enough to recognize two very deadly enemies.

It proved to be a very deadly mistake.

In the short time the overly-arrogant (Pride claimed that she had done nothing to him, and Wrath didn't have difficulties believing that) god had thrown his bearded head back to laugh at the sight of a man with shattered, ripped-up armour holding a small girl in his arms, Ira and Superbia had already wiped out the entire mortal army. Some legion.

If anyone else (Envy excluded) had tried to prevent him from killing a god, right there and then, he would have happily shown them their mistake in the most painful way possible. As it was, he held his ground while Vanagloria struck and destroyed the god.

After, laughing joyfully, Pride smiled and promised that he could do that to the Olympians.

("But give me a piggy-back ride.")

("Very well.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

He just hated Gluttony. Not because of his Sin, or because of his country – though, recently, his brother had been moving onto America – but because he was a worthless thing that had no business being a powerful Sin. Never using his divine powers unless he absolutely had to, treating everything as a game, as a, a joke, and not taking their project seriously but still gaining more and more power from it. . . .

It was like putting the remote control for a nuclear bomb in the hands of a child.

If it turned out that Gluttony was the eldest. . . .

It was a thought that often haunted him, more than any death or deed had even done to his ancient mind. Once, Wrath smashed one of Pride's diamonds by accident because of that thought. It turned out that the blue rock had belonged to one of her favorite mortals.

Pride had to make up the Hope Diamond and release it back to the world. The mortals decided that the new gem had been cut from the famous French Blue. Gluttony got away scot free.

Wrath caused more forest fires.

("Anger management, bro!")

("You shut up.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Sloth annoyed him, even if she stuck to the plan and used a large amount of her power on a daily basis.

Unlike the rest of the Sins, Sloth didn't really stimulate. Instead, she made people sin by simply not doing anything. The only times she actually stimulated people was to invent things to either cause harm, or further spread laziness.

He didn't like that. What was the point on existing, then?

Not only that, but her sense of humour . . . only Gluttony and Greed had something worse, and they were themselves. All Sloth had was the excuse that she slept too much, and she never used that excuse. Therefore, she was guilty.

Then there was her immunity, and veto power, something he thought she didn't deserve. She had it, but she never used it unless she wanted to sleep some more. And that clashed with all his plans.

("You moon-eyed moron! Stop interrupting my plans for the sake of your ridiculous sleep!")

("Zzz. . . .")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Envy was, without question, his favorite sister. Out of the six various siblings he had, he preferred Envy over all of them. In a way, they were similar, two sides of a coin. A human sinning one of their Sins could so easily find themselves in the other's grasps. . . .

And unlike the others, she knew when to stop going against his grain. She knew the limits of his temper, and she didn't pass those limits. She actually respected the borders, and him.

With all honesty, she was his only real ally. The only time she was hesitant in backing him was for the plan to kill all mortals. . . but he knew the reasons why, and he understood, something that didn't normally happen for him. Ever.

She was the one closest to being his 'actual' sibling, despite the differences in their elements. He didn't care, not too much.

("You slap Sloth; I'll stab Lust.")

("Deal. Thanks, Wrath.")

* * *

I forgot to update. . . . both last week and this week. I blame winter vacation.

On the other hand, last chapter of 2012!

Posted: 31/12/2012


	11. Third Revealing

According to the guidebook Rachel had found, the things that followed the Sins around in either animal or weapon form were actually a separate entity of the Sin, their best, most potent weapon, like Zeus' Lightning Bolt, or Poseidon's Trident, or the Keys and the newly-forged sword of Hades. It was more than just something to carry around, cutting and slashing and attack with; it was, pretty much, a part of them in a different aspect. Their symbol, their way of wielding power.

The footnote in the guidebook for this piece of information had also added that this hadn't been cited properly, and may have been wrong. Nico didn't really want to have to ask Sloth, so he decided that whatever the guidebook said was right. It certainly sounded right, even if it didn't have 'credible' sources.

Who had even written the thing anyways? There had been a debate about whether the book had been trustworthy or not – it was a _book_, something _most_ demigods didn't like too much – but Chiron had admitted that what he knew of the Sins and the corresponding pieces of information had been correct. The gods had passed on commenting, and so Nico had no idea who wrote the guide, and therefore, did not know the sources who claimed that this bear was Wrath's best weapon and somewhat of an alter-ego. Therefore, he just cursed at the stupid bear that had pushed Mrs. O'Leary onto him.

Mrs. O'Leary was, he knew, a hellhound in healthy size, which meant that she weighed about a ton. A furry truck that could shadow travel, but was still lying on his legs. Full weight.

That stupid bear.

"Think you can get off us, girl?" he grunted. Next to him, Piper let out some muffled swear words. Impressive. He added two new words to his 'angry' vocabulary, and then tried to help the friendly hellhound get to her paws. He wasn't helping _much_, but it was the thought that counted.

"Ira!" an unknown male voice – Wrath, most likely – snarled over the sounds of a heated battle where two people were engaged in a deadly dance of combat. "Stop playing around."

Nico found his legs relieved of the heavy pressure of a hellhound when the bear sank its claws into Mrs. O'Leary's ribs, and lifted her off into the air, but he himself wasn't really relieved.

Crap. Percy was going to kill him if Mrs. O'Leary got too hurt.

His sword was still in his hands, although his hand felt a bit crushed and numb. Still, Nico stepped forward and threw the weapon, letting it become a deadly black missile.

_Please_, he prayed to whichever god was in charge of aiming thrown swords_. Please let that hit._

It did. The bear released Mrs. O'Leary – right back on his legs and Piper's, earning a curse from both of them – and clawed at its own eyes with razor sharp talons the size of daggers, trying to get the sword out from one of them. The sword had sunken into one of its unnatural hellfire green eyes, and now black blood tinged with the same green was trickling down as it roared hoarsely, making the wound worse with its blind attempts.

_Ira could destroy himself if he keeps that up._

Nico frowned as Mrs. O'Leary finally got off of him. Sloth was in his head. . . how? She was sealed up in Pandora's pithos. Maybe he was just imagining things.

_No, you're not. The gods decided to free me._

His pocket had a squished square of ambrosia. He dug out the god food mush, and picked out some pocket lint before offering the cleaner parts to Piper. She wrinkled her nose, but took it with a thanks and reluctant understanding in her expression as she ate it. She was smarter and more sensible than the average Aphrodite kid, it seemed.

_Do I want to know why?_ He tried to think in his head. Nico imagined his worded thoughts crossing some kind of invisible telephone line before reaching the other end, where Sloth heard his voice inside her consciousness telephone.

There was a bit of pause before she replied. No_, not really. Relax, by the way,_ she changed the subject. _Wrath is good at taking over people. Don't let anger cloud your judgement._

_You're hiding something,_ he accused.

_I have stolen memories of childbirth, and the ability to make you go through those very memories, full pain and emotional stress in high definition. Would you like to experience that?_

_No!_ He winced, and decided to ignore her from now on. There were just some things the male human being – even if they were only half-human – was to not experience.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

This guy was good. He was, Percy reflected, probably very old, and therefore had a lot more experience than he ever would get, but he was _good_. The strikes were smooth, and transitioned easily, and the spear – something he had pulled from a tree, of all things – was just an ordinary spear that had become a killing machine in his hands.

Percy was making sure that his back never got to face that spear. His clothes were already tattered rags from all the times the spear had jabbed at him, but he was still alive, thanks to the Curse of Achilles.

As the fight dragged on, Percy began to analyze his style. Skill, yes, experience, yes, strength, Hades, yes, but there was something else. Something that was present and dominant in every strike and parry and blow of his.

When he finally figured it out, Percy had to agree with Annabeth's nickname, Seaweed Brain.

The guy was angry. The guy named _Wrath_ was _angry_. His fighting style was one filled with _anger_. That was why he hadn't been chopped into Percy chops, because he had a bit of a problem with _anger_ management. That, and his invulnerability.

Wrath's attacks slowed down a bit. "Ira! Stop fooling around and _destroy_ it!"

Ira was the bear, right? Who was the bear supposed to-

Mrs. O'Leary. Percy focused, beginning to drive Wrath to one side so that they were slowly but surely turning till he could face Wrath in the fight while looking for Mrs. O'Leary.

Nico had, thankfully, stabbed Ira in the eye with his sword, and was currently being squished by her. Everything was under control, even if she was bleeding pretty heavily in the side.

Now all he had to do was defeat Wrath.

That thought in his mind, he kept on batting away the shaft of the spear till the wood, put through force and just too much strikes with a cursed bronze blade, gave and snapped, breaking into two pieces. Wrath had no weapon.

Percy swung down. No hesitation, no mercy, this was someone willing to wipe out humanity. He'd 'kill' him, or force the Sin to use up enough of his reserves for his body to temporarily 'die', like Lust, so that they could buy time.

His luck insured that it didn't work out the way he thought it would.

Wrath grabbed his sword in the middle of the swing, and held it. He wasn't immune to the sharp edge, and his fingers were bleeding heavily, but he didn't even flinch as he wrenched Riptide out of his surprised, loosened grip.

"You're good," he acknowledged, shaking off a few drops of blood on his hand. The black liquid was replaced instantly, the wound bleeding much more heavily, but he didn't seem to care. "But you're careless."

"I beat you," Percy reminded him before he could think about what he was saying. "So what does that make you?"

Behind Wrath, the bear with the bleeding, mutilated eyes snarled, but Wrath merely reached behind to grab a claw. The huge bear fell silent at that.

"Someone who was going 'easy'. Pride likes you two too much for me to allow me to do more."

This guy reminded him of Ares. Both of them had some female close to them that liked him enough to spare him from being killed (or at least someone to use as an excuse as to why they couldn't kill one puny demigod), and the anger-inducing aura that made rage cloud better judgement and lose control. Except. . . except Wrath was rawer, a bit more concentrated. Made sense, him being Wrath and all. Still, Percy wasn't going to fall for that. This wasn't his first quest, when he'd been framed for something he didn't do and the war god was provoking him in some diner. He was used to fighting, he had better control, and he wasn't falling for some cheap party trick made to-

"Did your girlfriend tell you about me?"

Whatever thoughts of self control he'd been thinking to keep himself in check went out the window. That really pushed him over the line. He was implying that he knew something about Annabeth, something he didn't, like he was the one who'd been friends with her for years, like he was the one who loved her, who gave up a chance at godhood for her.

"So she didn't tell you?" Ira limped to his master, and bowed his head before resting it on his side, staining the white shirt Wrath wore. It reminded him of Acedia, and Luxuria, the two odd things that had been both animal and car.

That thing was probably a monster truck in automobile form.

"Ask her about the flames on her back, then, Jackson," Wrath set the fragments of the broken spear on fire. "And see what kind of answer you get back."

"Wait."

Wrath turned to Piper, who was leaning against a tree and holding her throat with a pained expression. "Who?" she managed to croak.

It really wasn't much of a question, but the Sin got whatever message she was conveying. "Gluttony's agent. He'll be here soon."

"Who?" Percy asked, echoing Piper's question.

"A man who hates you very much," Wrath turned Ira into his sword, and stuck it into a belt loop in his jeans. He could have easily passed for a demigod, with his looks, his fluid stance, and his constant shifting, burning eyes. The only slightly wrong thing was his blackened, green-glowing blood. "Next time, don't get in my way when I'm after my brother. We're going to be at war soon, in case you've forgotten."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Wrath is here?!" the girl named Thalia bolted to the direction of the forest before she could get to answer her question. From the look on her face, Piper felt sorry for Wrath.

"Thalia! Wait up!" a few of the girls in silver ran after her, streaks of silver in the dark disappearing. "You don't know where he is!"

The last she heard was, "I have a way of finding that bastard!"

Wrath had, after telling them about the obvious threat of war, simply sat next to the large tree where Gluttony had hidden, closed his eyes, and _slept_. So apparently, he didn't think they were enough of a threat while he had a little naptime.

Even Piper had felt a little offended.

"He tells us that we'll be at war, yet he treats this place like his home front," Leo muttered. "What's up, man?"

"Piper? Could you stay a bit still?" Will looked a bit apologetic. "It's hard for me to get a good look."

"Sorry," she tried to tip her head back a bit more. Her crackly voice had been fixed when Will had poured nectar down her throat. It was an interesting experience, drinking what looked like apple juice and tasted completely different, and feeling it heal her sore throat. "Is that better?"

She couldn't see his face, but she heard the sound of air being sharply sucked in. Not better, then.

"How bad is it?"

"It's. . . good. Fantastic condition, actually, for someone who was nearly strangled to death."

Piper winced at the reminder.

"But, er, it's been tattooed," cool fingers probed around her neck. "It's not burning, is it?"

"No," despite the impossibility of her catching a look, her eyes strained downwards, anyways. "Why would it be?"

"Because it's a moving tattoo of green fire."

That had not been Will. That had been the cool, collected voice of someone who knew exactly what she was saying, albeit a bit dejectedly.

Piper looked a bit to the side to see Annabeth, several feet away. Too far to see the tattoo properly, when it would have been covered by Will's magic hands and the shade of her tipped head. "How did you. . . ?"

"Long story," she sighed, pushing back her blond hair. "But one I'll have to tell soon, when Thalia gets back here."

From the forest, a cry of fury exploded out of nowhere and scared some of the roosting birds into flight.

"She found Wrath," Annabeth explained to no one in particular as the sound of the same voice gave into angry shouts that were only mumbles from this distance. "Hope she leaves me something to hurt."

Piper's neck prickled, feeling warmer as Annabeth came closer. The warmth was like standing close to a steady blaze in the fireplace, or pressing a cup of hot chocolate to a patch of skin. Cozy, toasty, and a bit heartwarming. "Hey, do you have one too?"

Annabeth's gray eyes flickered to Piper's neck, where her moving tattoo was supposed to be. "Yeah," she answered. "I do. Thalia does, too, which is why-" she gestured at the direction of the sounds of an angry girl.

"The hot chick in silver has one, too?" Leo had been staring at the flames on her skin for some time, but he looked away now. "It's not contagious or anything, is it?"

"Leo!" Piper swatted his arm.

"Is it?" Leo looked unusually serious as he stared down Annabeth, a feat of extreme bravery. "Is it going to get her killed or something? Will it burn her?"

Annabeth understood. "It hasn't hurt either Thalia or I yet, so I don't think so."

He looked at Piper, who shrugged. "Good enough for me."

Even if it wasn't exactly a perfect answer.

* * *

Why, Nico, proper references are _very_ important!

Preview for next chapter:

"You!" a few of the hunters winced at the volume their lieutenant was shrieking in.

Wrath looked up from his spot, apparently annoyed at being woken up. "Me."

Thalia shot an arrow at him.


	12. Burning

"You!" a few of the hunters winced at the volume their lieutenant was shrieking in.

Wrath looked up from his spot, apparently annoyed at being woken up. "Me."

Thalia shot an arrow at him.

It was a short distance, and the arrow, while shot true and strong, wasn't exactly a killing shot. The arrow sank into flesh, most likely ripping up tissue, scratching up bone and muscle cruelly before breaking through and pinning him to the tree. Black blood with a tinge of green began to spill out, and his t-shirt lost more of its white-ness.

Thalia could not care less about his shirt.

"What in the name of Zeus have you done?!" she thundered, and the sky rumbled as well, accenting her anger. For once, her father was on her direct side in a fight. That didn't exactly warm her heart, but it was nice support.

Wrath's expression didn't even change, a fact that made her even angrier. She was actually seeing hazes of red around her vision. Maybe that was his influence, though.

Instead, he just gripped the arrow and pulled it out, still holding a perfect poker face even with the sounds of the arrow tearing and pulling flesh, muscle and tendons. Black blood spilled out, further staining his once-white shirt.

"That's unnatural," one of her girls muttered, and Thalia had to agree. Didn't he feel pain?

"I got past the camp's defenses – they're crap, by the way – because I was after someone who was hiding in here. And then I lost my temper, and a few demigods got in my way. End of the story."

"You know I mean this!" she pulled back the long sleeve and shoved the back of her hand at him, putting that mark of green flames right in perfect view. The mark had been burning for the time Wrath had been here, and had led her to his location like a homing beacon, pulsing and warming up to his presence. "What the Hades is this?!"

"I'd quite like to ask that question myself," next to her, Artemis had appeared out of nowhere, and was pulling back her silver bow. "As well as, of course, why you are here."

Wrath drew the corners of his mouth back and bared his teeth in what could have been a vicious snarl, or a seriously evil-looking smirk. "To burn you."

The goddess narrowed her eyes. "All of you, step back," she began to warn, when Wrath closed his eyes.

Thalia screamed. "Oh my gods!"

All of the hunt – including their goddess – whipped their heads towards her. "Thalia?"

"Make it stop!" she howled. Her hand was on fire. It was boiling, it was burning, it was scorching, and it was spreading. "Make it- auuugh!"

Screaming helped, even if it was only a bit. Her eyes showed her that there was nothing wrong with her hand, save for the image of green fire dancing across it, but her senses told her that her skin was peeling off, and were being rubbed with salt before being burned. Being drowned in bleach after having been whipped with lashes of fire. And that was only on her hand.

Thalia reached for her knife, fumbling as she tried to unclasp it from her belt. Before, she dimly remembered, she could have whipped it out within a fraction of a second. Now, it seemed to take an eternity before her fingers found the celestial bronze blade.

It took even more time then, her fingers not getting a proper grip on the hilt, but she eventually grabbed it properly.

And then, the agony stopped. It was gone so suddenly, the only thing to tell her that it had existed was the looks of concern the other hunters had on their faces while they stood over her.

"Next time, it'll be all over your body," Wrath informed her casually while holding some cloth to his shoulder. "Yours, and all over the other two's."

She hated to admit it, but a wave of terror passed across her at that moment. She'd have to go through that all over again? On a worse scale?

Oh, that was it. This hand was going to be chopped off.

"I wouldn't try to remove it till you receive further instructions."

"Why not?"

"Because then it will be like a nuclear bomb went off exactly where you're standing."

Artemis was not happy at that. "Why is that?"

Wrath actually made a face. For a moment, he seriously looked like some normal college student who had been joking around with his friends when they suggested doing something really stupid. Minus the bloody shirt and all. . . ."Greed loves intercontinental ballistic missiles, and she's been dying to find an excuse to fire one since they were invented. This is her excuse."

"Remove the mark from her at once," Artemis ordered, arrow once again lifted towards him, ready to be fired. "Or else."

The hunters, including Thalia, backed away slightly. This was one of Artemis' _special_ arrows, embodying the power of the wild, the hunt, the moon, and everything else her lady stood for. _That_ silver arrow being fired would result in what would be equal to a magic nuke explosion. The same power, but no radiation, and all focused onto one tiny point.

"Or else what?" Wrath raised an eyebrow. The other hunters had their bows in their hands within seconds when he grabbed his sword, but he simply changed it into a small dagger. "You'll fire another arrow into my vessel?"

Flick. His wrist suffered a deep, horizontal cut, and black blood burst out before beginning a steady stream.

"In just this state, you'd have a hard time obliterating my vessel. You would come very close, yes, but the vessel would still be capable of hosting part of my soul. I would still be standing, and I will heal."

Another extremely casual flick that made a deep cut. More blood joined the initial trickle.

"But if I weaken it further, then that arrow of yours will be enough to destroying all of the reserve energy within this particular vessel."

The land where the large pool of green-tinged black liquid was pooling was actually beginning to smoke.

Wrath switched hands holding the blade, and made a few quick slashes, not making any casual talk now. "Meaning my soul would have to drift around for an unknown amount of time before my next vessel is made. You would have, in all words, 'killed' me. So what will you do now?"

A nymph fell out of the tree Wrath had been leaning against, deadly pale and sickly-looking. She tried to reach Artemis with a trembling hand, but then fell to the ground and faded away. The now-dead tree burst into angry green flames.

"Do you want to die?" Artemis demanded.

"No," Wrath smiled. It was actually a normal, nice smile, one that could have had girls drooling at his feet. Hunters had too much dignity, pride, and boy-hate for that. "But I want you all to burn."

The fire surged and leaped towards Artemis. The instincts of millennia made the goddess leap aside, and automatically fire the arrow directly into Wrath's corrupted, twisted black heart.

For a moment, Thalia thought that Artemis had switched arrows some time before she fired, because Wrath was standing there, that smile still on his face, arrow embedded in his chest.

Then, a bright light surrounded everything, and a huge explosion wracked her world. Somewhere in the forest, now hidden by the blinding light, Thalia felt her body being slammed into something hard.

Wrath's last words echoed in her mind. Maybe she was just imagining it. Or maybe, it was the flames that carried his voice.

_". . . And I don't particularly care about the price I have to pay."_

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Make it stop!" Piper howled. That was the only words she managed before beginning to scream, clawing at her neck.

Next to her, Annabeth was being held by her boyfriend as she writhed in his arms. "Annabeth, Wise Girl, calm down, there's no fire, you're not burning, come on, you're stronger than this, come one, you can do this," and so on. If they weren't in so much pain, Leo would have thought that she was giving birth. He would have joked about it too, but this wasn't the situation for it.

The two were talking about their bodies 'burning' with 'fire'. Was this his fault? They weren't actually on fire, but no one else really had fire powers in camp.

He had never felt the pain of being burned by fire, and therefore couldn't imagine what it felt like, but it must have been awful for the two to be screaming. Annabeth didn't seem like the type to show her weaknesses too easily, and Piper was, he knew, pretty strong. Much stronger than those plastic girls back in the Wilderness School had been, anyways.

He tried to see if there was any way he could 'sense' fire from them. It couldn't just be some limited control he had over it, right? He wasn't some kind of human lighter, meant to light up cigarettes for people who thought nicotine was a cursed blessing or whatever Lust had called it.

Right?

Leo exited the not-so-wonderful place of Leo-World and came back into the sometimes-wonderful and sometimes-horrible Real-World just in time to see the two girls stop screaming.

Okay, that had been weird.

While the stormy-eyed blonde began to give an explanation, Piper looked like she was going to die of embarrassment. It didn't help that some of the Aphrodite kids were snickering at her, either.

Blood is thicker than water. Yeah, right. His whole life, the only person to ever prove that quote had been his mother, and he had lead to her death. Kind of counter-productive.

He got closer and sat next to Piper. "So. . ." he really couldn't think of anything that might cheer her up, or distract her from the weird looks she and Annabeth were getting. Only, because everyone seemed scared of Annabeth and Percy, they were looking at the newbie who really couldn't do anything. "I'm guessing the tattoo can hurt?"

Piper didn't even punch his arm, a serious indicator that something was wrong. "I don't even feel pain anymore," she admitted. "But I swear, it was like. . . like someone burning me with some kind of magic fire."

Leo sat on his hands. "Magic fire, so, like, fire that people can make? Like that one dude from the blue tights squad?"

"The one who yells 'Flame On!' before jumping off a building? No."

That made him feel a bit better. He couldn't fly – he'd most likely be screaming something much, much stronger than 'flame on' as he fell down the way to becoming a pathetic Leo pancake – but other than that, it was pretty similar.

"So then what exactly is magic fire?"

A huge explosion wracked the forest. Everyone leapt to their feet – minus the Hypnos kids, who were still asleep – alarmed.

Leo was never getting that question answered.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"You're going to sleep here?" Jason demanded. It was nearly curfew, and most of the soldiers were where they were supposed to be.

Sloth wasn't exactly a soldier, but she was supposed to be fighting for them, and this was. . . .

"What's wrong with sleeping on the ground?" Sloth asked, looking genuinely puzzled. "I heard it was good for your back in the long run. Of course, considering the average life span of my vessels, it's not like it matters much, but better safe than sorry, you know?"

He was a _demigod_. That meant that he was _lucky_ if he reached his _thirties_ with his limbs intact. "No, not really."

Sloth shrugged and closed her eyes, curled up with a stuffed animal in her arms. A fluffy, tortoiseshell cat. Acedia.

"At least get a blanket or something," he said, exasperated.

"Why?"

"I don't know!"

"Then I will not. Good night."

Jason wondered if he could bring a blanket for her without being too late for curfew when Sloth spoke again. "You don't owe me."

"What?"

"You're acting like this because you think that you owe me for saving you from that dart. You don't owe me."

"That's not why-" Jason protested, but he realized that it was exactly the reason Sloth had given him.

"How about this? You let me sleep, we're even?"

That was about as good as it was going to get. "Alright," he turned away and began to walk to his quarters. "Good night, Sloth."

"Good night, master Grace."

"Don't call me that."

Her voice was faint by now, but he could hear the laughter in it. "Yes, master Grace."


	13. Greedy Executives' Meeting

Thalia woke up to see Phoebe staring at her. "Phoebe?" she croaked. "What happened?"

The large, tough hunter sighed, looking older than her eternal youth should have allowed. "Some of our sisters. . . didn't make it."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but when it did, it hit her hard. The flames, the exploding Sin. . . . "What about Lady Artemis?" she coughed, and Phoebe handed her a glass of nectar. The golden drink of the gods was like healing balm on her rough, sore throat. She drank it greedily, ignoring the sudden burst of energy and restlessness her body was developing.

"She went back to Olympus," Phoebe answered. "Thalia. . . how did you survive?"

"What do you mean?"

"The others, they were. . . they were further away from him when he apparently set some kind of explosives off. You were right there, but other than smoke inhalation, you're alright. How?"

That was a very good question, and one she didn't have an answer to. Thalia shrugged and tried to get out of bed. "Maybe coming to camp wasn't such a good idea after all," she admitted as she struggled with the sheets around her.

Phoebe snorted.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Standing in the middle of a ridiculously fancy ballroom the size of a football field, all Percy could think was that he was thankful this was all a dream.

It looked like there was a business meeting of some sort going on there. On one side of the large table he was standing next to, there were several people dressed in fancy business attires, carrying briefcases and organizing files, chatting amongst themselves and just looking superior in general.

On the other side, there was this. . . thing. It had to be thirty feet in height, and that was just the beginning. From the waist up, he – Percy decided to call it a he – was humanoid, and ripped. Very, very ripped, to the point where his biceps were roughly the size of Nico's entire body. Not very big in teen standard, but in bicep standard, it was good. He looked like he'd be better off dressed in armour of some sort, but he was wearing a black blazer with a white dress shirt. His tie had flame patterns, and it was louder than what any normal used car salesman would have worn.

From the waist down, this guy was dragon. Scaled, with claws rather than feet, and thick as a tree trunk, that was something he really didn't want to be stepped on by.

"Enceladus," one of the guys on the normal-looking sides was saying. "Enceladus. Dude, I love your name."

. . . alright, so maybe not so business like after all.

"I mean," he continued. "It sounds like enchilada. I love enchiladas!"

Percy was guessing that this Enceladus guy was the big, ugly giant half-dragon monster, because he looked the most offended out of all four living beings in the room. Only Grover would have liked being compared to an enchilada, though there wasn't much about him to really compare to a Mexican food.

Next to him, his female friend buried her head in her hands. "Gluttony, go outside and sit in the corner," she ordered.

"But you said I could stamp the pretty stamp," he whined like a five-year old kid.

"Gluttony, go."

Pouting, Gluttony did so. Percy didn't like this. Wrath had just attacked – and committed some sort of explosive suicide by angry goddess – Camp Half-Blood three days ago. There was no way this dream was just some sort of stock tip coming in.

The last guy took off his sunglasses, revealing purple eyes and an all-too familiar face. Lust, back from the dead. "We apologize for Gluttony's behaviour," he said politely, adjusting his tie. Unlike Enceladus's very loud and fiery tie, his was a light lavender. "We think he's rediscovered his love of drugs, though we're not sure which ones he's gotten into now."

Enceladus grunted. "Not very reassuring to us, considering how your sister was putting us to sleep. She joined the gods, didn't she?"

"After we disposed of her," the woman looked up and met the giant's eyes somehow, despite the vast height difference. Percy blinked, surprised at just how much she resembled Rachel. Red hair, pale skin, similar facial structure, challenging look. . . .

And that was where the similarities ended. Unlike his friend the smoke-exhaling Oracle, this woman had sleek red hair, perfectly clear skin, and sapphire blue eyes. She was also wearing what an executive from Wall Street (or wherever they had rich, powerful executives that didn't care what happened to anyone else as long as they got what they wanted) would wear; meaning something Rachel wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.

"Bad blood must be flushed out, after all. If I may remind you, Enceladus, your mother _is_ the one that happens to be the ancestor of our common enemies. We could be arguing about silly familial sentimentalities all day, but I hardly doubt that would be productive, nor beneficial. Shall we focus on the matter at hand?"

Wait. Percy's mind finally made the connection. Gluttony and Lust. Sloth had said something about the Sins being divided, categorized. Lust said back in Las Vegas. . . he had said that he and Gluttony followed the orders of-

Enceladus grunted, and shifted on his feet, unable to really do anything other than stand awkwardly. "Wise of you to consider that, Greed."

So this was Greed. Honestly, Percy had been expecting someone dressed more extravagantly. Dripping with gold, or jewels, or something that screamed money. Greed's attire just blended in with the majority of upper-class New York folk. Fancy, business-like, yes, but not exactly _'I-am-the-epitome-of-human-greed'._

Of course, since some Wall Street Brokers seemed to stand for the epitome of human greed, maybe her attire was fitting after all.

"Thank you," Greed nodded. "Now, here are the boundaries. The Sins take the territories of the Olympic Parthenon through the-"

"However," Enceladus continued. "It seems you weren't wise enough to place protection in this room."

Lust may have said that Sloth was his favorite sister, but it seemed that he had no problems in being Greed's lackey. He stood up, and changed his fancy clothes into armour before pulling out a sword Percy recognized as Luxuria. "I don't sense anything."

"Neither do I. What is this, Enceladus?"

The large giant grinned, showing sharp fangs like knives, and turned to directly face him. "Dreaming demigods. Hello, Percy Jackson."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Checkmate."

Jason bit the insides of his cheeks to prevent a full-blown out smile from spreading. Sloth may have been old and powerful, but she was terrible at chess. After a grand total of ten moves, her king had somehow gotten checkmated after her rooks, queen, and the horse thing had 'died'.

"Another game?" Octavian suggested mockingly. "Perhaps your luck will be better this time."

A few of the gathered Romans laughed, but Sloth only nodded. "Perhaps," she agreed as she snapped her fingers. The board reset, and that made the other Romans watching stop laughing and tense up slightly.

Jason resisted the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. In the past few days, he had gotten to learn about Sloth's habit of using magic for anything that would result in less physical movement. So had the rest of the Romans.

Apparently, she was too lazy to move a few chess pieces around back to their right spots. Most Romans didn't do lazy, in fear of Somnus. For every step they took with her being closer to the Romans, it seemed that they took two more backwards. No progress was being made, and it felt like only distrust was rising.

It was extremely frustrating.

"White goes first," Sloth said, oblivious to the troubles.

She lost again.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Lust rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that all?" he asked as he put his sword back into his scabbard. "And here I thought there were the spiders coming again. I hate spiders. Nasty creepers. Nothing more annoying when you're on a date with an extraordinarily beautiful girl you only get to see when she's extremely pissed at you, and all of a sudden she stops trying to kill you and picks up a spider she nearly squashed with her foot."

Greed looked around, but her eyes didn't stop on him. Twice, they passed over him without even slowing.

"You can't see me," he said aloud, though he didn't know why he bothered. Greed probably couldn't hear him either.

Enceladus grunted. "Only I can see you, Jackson. The Sins are powerful, but they have their limits, because of their one weakness."

"Sounds stronger than you," he said in hopes of getting that weakness.

The monster scowled, and opened his mouth to retort when his jaw went slack and his eyes began to glow blue.

Percy looked at Greed. Her eyes were glazed, much like what his looked like in English Class.

"So it's true," Greed's voice, a high, clear woman's words, sounded odd coming from the monster jaws of Enceladus. "You do go into places you shouldn't in your dreams."

He actually did that on a regular basis. "Guess that means I won't be getting your weakness, huh?"

"Mortality."

Percy turned to see Lust, who was reading some kind of magazine with a really cool sports car on the cover. "No matter how powerful we are, we still are mortal, which is probably why we can't see you, though since Greed can possess the bodies of giants, I can hear you through the connection. We've been mortal ever since Pandora released us into the human world. It's not our only weakness, but-"

"Shut up," Greed ordered, releasing Enceladus from her blue eye thing and returning to her own body. Lust immediately seized up, doubling over and going into a serious coughing fit. He looked like he was going to choke to death, but he still looked pretty good, for a dude. Like Eros, only dying. Modelling for death. Join our beauty makeover program, and you, too, can look this good while dying. Methods include choking, bleeding, poisoning and fading away.

Greed didn't seem particularly concerned about her brother's health. "Enceladus? If you would do the honors of dismissing an intruder? I suggest, ah, the Bronze Jar."

Greed really was Sloth's sister. There was some kind of quality in her voice, one that made her order sound more like a helpful suggestion, a plea for help. Manipulative.

Enceladus snapped his fingers, and Percy fell through darkness, the scene changing to a light glow that was familiar somehow.

"Perseus Jackson?" a woman's voice, and she sounded incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

In the dark, her olive-skinned face was just barely illuminated by the glow that seemed to be coming from all around them, but the woman had a sort of a dreamy quality to her, an element of happy contentment.

She looked anything but happy or content at the moment. Instead, she looked furious, even with the peaceful curves of her face.

"Who are you?" he asked. He didn't recognize her, but she knew him. Just like half of the mythical community. Were there tabloids with his picture going around or something?

"Iris, the rainbow goddess, but that doesn't matter at the moment! Do the gods know?"

"Know what?"

She actually stomped her foot in frustration, making a ding sound. "That the Sins are back!"

"Oh, that? Yeah, and they declared war on us."

Iris looked like she wanted to murder someone. "And so they took out the best method of communication. Bah!"

She paced around some more. "You need to find a way to tell the gods – no, the _Olympians_ that the Sins are just going to keep taking the minor gods and drain us of our powers before moving onto the Olympians. Has the war started?"

"No, we have about two months."

Iris let out a wail. "That's not enough time! They're already done with me, and they've got Morpheus, at the very least! Tell them!"

Dreams and rainbows. Percy knew he was supposed to respect the minor gods and all, especially after the request he had made in exchange for immortality and godhood. . . but dreams and rainbows. He wasn't sure how that helped the cause of the Sins, unless they were making children's hospitals.

Iris glowered at him. "They didn't drain me completely, demigod. Go, before they get arrogant and powerful enough to get your father."

That kind of sobered him up. "Right. Warn the gods. Will do that when I wake up . . . now."

Nothing happened. He was still in 'the bronze jar'. "Umm. . . now?"

Still nothing happened. "How do I wake up?"

"You're kidding me," Iris moaned into her hands.


	14. Healthy Cupcake Simulations

When Mars and Apollo came down to camp, everyone fell to their knees. The last time, no one had been able to pay their respects because of the fire attacks. Not one Roman wanted to seem disrespectful when there wasn't a crisis, and so they fell to their knees first and held their words.

Apollo nodded, acknowledging them, but Mars stepped forward in Sloth's direction. "Sloth, Sin and prisoner of the Olympians," he announced. "Your parole period has been extended from a length of three days to that of a week. In that time, you are expected to contribute somehow to our preparation of war against the other Sins, your former allies. Should you make any moves against us, you will immediately be trapped once again in your prison. Any questions, or excuses for me to blow you up right here and now?"

Sloth blinked and looked at Jason. He was a bit taken aback at her turning to him, but he shrugged with a blank expression. This was her call.

She looked back at the god. "What am I allowed to do?"

"Teach the soldiers about the Sins. More than what you have already told them."

Great. More paperwork, notes and some things in history that turned out to be triggered by the Sins.

The Romans were too disciplined to actually show it, but he felt them simmer with annoyance. No one really liked paperwork in the army.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Percy felt like an absolute scumbag – hi, Gabe – for having to hold his laughter back as he watched the rainbow goddess go into a complete meltdown. If this hadn't been such a serious situation, or if it had been a goddess that didn't look so . . . so nice, he might have just laughed out really loudly and taken his punishment like an average, run-of-the-mill unlucky Greek hero.

"Okay," he told himself. "How do I wake up?"

Well, normally, he snapped out of his prophetic and seriously annoying dreams by being in serious danger in the real or dream world. And since Tyson wasn't going to crush him accidently in his cabin while having a terrifying dream about peanut butter shortage . . . ."Um, Lady Iris?"

"Mmgh?" the puddle of meltdown goddess asked from the bottom of their bronze jar.

"Err . . ." he'd ask about her later. "Can you put me in danger?"

"Nrrgh."

That sounded like a no. "Okay, I'll take that as a no. Will you eat me?"

As soon as he said it, he realized how stupid that actually sounded. But it did snap Iris out of her depression. She looked up from the ground with annoyance written all over her face. "I will do no such thing!" she said indignantly. "For your information, I am currently on an organic-only diet! You are _not_ organic by any definition! For the sake of the gods, you eat _blue_ food! Do you know what those food colouring dyes are made _out_ of?"

"Right, sorry."

But she wasn't done. "I was going to take a break," she sniffed as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her knees were still tucked under her chin, telling him that she could go back into meltdown all over again, but she looked strong at the moment. "Let one of my assistants be the messenger or dump it all on Hermes. Let the lying thief work."

Percy didn't think Hermes would like that, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Then I'd open up a nice little shop, something for me because no one _ever_ dedicates anything to me!" Iris buried her face in her knees. "But now I'm trapped inside a stupid jar only Ares should be stupid enough to be stuck in and my gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulation recipe will never be known to the world!"

"It might be for the best," he couldn't help but mutter, feeling sick just hearing about the cupcake simulation.

"What?" Iris looked up.

"Nothing."

But she had apparently heard him, like those adults that always said 'What?' and 'Excuse me?' and 'Pardon?' even after they heard him the first time. Why bother asking him to repeat what he said if they already heard it the first time? All that resulted in was him getting in trouble for mouthing off, and the adult in the situation becoming pissed off. "Percy Jackson, I'll have you know that the gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulation I created is absolutely delicious and could replace the Ding-Dong on the public market as soon as Americans actually start caring about what they're stuffing into their bodies!"

He felt a lecture coming up. "Are you sure you won't try to eat me?" he asked weakly. Anything to get him out of here.

Iris huffed. "Fear the rainbow, Perseus Jackson," she muttered ominously.

Yes, rainbows, scariest thing he ever faced in his entire, danger filled demigod life. But this was a good change to wake up from this Bronze Jar dream of his. If he could annoy her enough she'd go all annoyed, ego bruised god, try to kill him for being rude, and his sleep danger instinct thing would kick in and he'd wake up. As long as he made sure she didn't just blast him to dust right there and then. "No offense, Lady Iris," he said cautiously. "But the rainbow isn't very scary."

Her head snapped up.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"Another reason why I absolutely loathe being stuck in our mortal form," Greed stretched and picked up her briefcase. The meeting had been successful, all negotiations had ended on their terms – though the giant hadn't realized that – and everything was going exactly as it had been planned. "Can't see those bloody demigods prancing around arrogantly in their dreams. I feel like an absolute idiot when that happens. Only thing worse was the Great Depression."

"Was Percy Jackson prancing around arrogantly?" Lust asked his superior and sister, already knowing the answer and the response he would get.

Greed tossed her pencil at him. He ducked and avoided it. "You know what I mean. He would have, if he knew just how much I despised our lack of power. Gluttony, stop chewing that, that's disgusting," she added when their other brother joined them. Gluttony was chewing on some kind of animal skewered on a wooden skew, and his tie was not around his neck like it should have been, but instead around his head. He smelt like vodka.

"I bought it from a vendor in China," he said, continuing to gnaw on whatever that thing was. "Waste not, want not."

"Don't be ridiculous; they're all asleep. You didn't even pay the man, did you?"

Gluttony swallowed the whole thing without chewing, technically following her orders. Greed sighed.

"When is this hellish punishment ever going to be over?"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

For the past three days, they'd all been trying to decide on one thing, and one thing only; the members of the quest.

On the fourth day, Annabeth was contemplating throwing herself into the lake to end it all. The morning began for her without breakfast. Instead, they went straight into the exact same argument everyone had been using for three days in a row. "Since the two prophecies are a puzzle-"

"-but there are no mortals that have the mark on them-"

"So just take Rachel! She went last time on the quest-"

"Does she have the damn mark on her? No!"

And this had to be the real reason why nothing ever got done in politics. On top of all the noise and disagreement, no one would even listen to any of her suggestions, all because of that one line in the stupid prophecy, _Of meanings thought by wisdom there may be none_. Because it wasn't bad enough that she had to normally work twice as hard to even be acknowledged as a _smart_ blonde. No, now they had some smartass telling everyone that whatever she thought of, there was a good chance it was nonsense.

Piper was across the table from her, and she wasn't speaking much. They had asked about the 'agent of Gluttony' Wrath had told her, but all she could tell them was that it was an image of a fat man with the Sin Gluttony in her mirror blade. As such, her job was to look into her blade and see if he popped up again.

She wasn't being treated too well, either. Just because she was a daughter of Aphrodite, they had already ruled out her opinions as useless and ridiculous. Normally, Annabeth would have thought similar thoughts, but she could see that Piper was a smart girl with an actual brain inside her head. She just needed self-confidence.

Someone began to knock impatiently at the door. No one got up to let the person in. The knocker began to pound at the door even louder.

Annabeth, apparently the only one with her hearing left over, got up and opened the door.

Percy stood there, still in his sleeping clothes with bed head and drool stains. "Am I late?"

"Kind of," she stood aside to let him in. "Did you brush your hair? Wash your face?"

Her boyfriend rested his feet on the table in front of him, revealing their bare dirtiness. "I didn't even put shoes on."

"Percy."

"Sorry, Annabeth, but I had to get out of there," Percy shuddered. "Tyson likes rainbows way too much. Do you think Peleus will mind if I crash next to him for the next few days? I can't face rainbows again right now."

Annabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?"

"Bad dream. Where's Chiron?"

Ah. That explained everything. "Hiding from this," she gestured at the two campers yelling at each other, backed by their 'sides'. "Next time, I want a quest-members only meeting."

"Yeah, well, here's something new," he told her about meeting Greed, Lust, Gluttony and Enceladus for a short time before being dropped in a bronze jar with Iris, who was having a nervous breakdown because of some 'gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulation' shortage in the world.

"You're making that up," she said at his one-breath explanation of the Ding Dong substitute.

"Wanna bet?"

"It's true."

Both of them looked up to see Butch standing over them. Behind his huge bulk, everyone else had quietened down.

"My mom," Butch fidgeted, poking at his rainbow tattoo. "You know, _Iris_. She- she told me about how she was working on developing something that would _look_ like junk food, but was really healthy. A few days before we lost contact with her, she told me it would be safe for everyone to eat because the cupcake simulation she had just finished would be-"

"Gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based?" Percy recited.

"Yeah, exactly!" Butch frowned. "Dude, how did you memorize all that?"

"Your mom is a scary teacher," was all he would say.

The equestrian expert looked confused.

"Umm," Piper called, hidden from view. "I got him!"

Everyone crowded her immediately, trying to catch a glimpse of the man Piper had 'supposedly' (Drew still had doubts about Piper's sanity) seen in her knife. Annabeth patted Percy on top of his really messy head and began to dig through the crowd. The good-old death glare still worked, at least, even if her reputation as the camp's best strategist was damaged at the moment. She pushed through and got to Piper and her dagger.

On the polished bronze blade, light reflected back with an image of a ridiculously fat man being carried by four near-emaciated people all struggling with a chair lift. The fat man was dressed richly, while the carriers were in rags.

The scene made her stomach twist; a tall pine tree stood near the area where the fat man was being carried.

Of course, that could have been anywhere in North America, but not many tall pine trees had the Golden Fleece hanging from a branch, or a dragon wrapped around it to protect said Golden Fleece.

"He's right outside," she said aloud.

For once since the stupid line in the prophecy had cursed her indirectly, no one disagreed with her.

* * *

I completely forgot to update! Okay, change in schedule: At least one chapter every two weeks.


	15. Wrath's Relationships II: The Virtues

_It's hard to completely hate someone you personally know very well, and the Sins have known the Virtues for a very long time._

* * *

Despite her similarities with Patience and the obvious fact that she was one of their archenemies, Wrath sometimes found himself symphathizing with the often-exasperated woman named Temperance. The female Virtue had the task of eternally fighting a nemesis with the brain capacity of a dolphin on steroids and a love for ridiculous games.

Sometimes, he wished she'd win and banish Gluttony forever into whatever afterlife awaited his brethren should they fail their project.

Then Patience would break his arm or do something along those lines and he'd be forced to rely on support from _all_ of his siblings. Including Gluttony, and then all the Virtues would have to be dealt with.

(After another battle that can only be felt through the hazy, ignored subconsciousness of mortals the woman pauses as she and her kin begins their retreat. "I almost feel sorry for you. A brother like that? How'd someone like you survive?")

(He glances at the man in red armour trying to impress his older sister by balancing a broadsword between his front teeth. "Ignoring the implied insult, I have no idea.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

He was slightly confused about Charity. Once, while facing off in China about some books being burnt, he had dropped Ira in the bonfire of burning bamboo books.

The flames would have never managed to hurt Ira – if anything, the flames became stronger after Ira fell in there – but Charity had yelped before diving into the blaze to save the bear and a few books. The Virtue had then risked capture to return the unhappy, irritated clawing bear to him before retreating from a failed mission. History blamed the emperor.

He still didn't get why he had gone into the flames. To 'save' Ira, that is, not the books. Saving the books he could definitely understand – he did spend some time with Greed, after all, and personal gain was something he understood all too well.

("Here – ouch! – you – ach! – go." The man's arm is scarred and bleeding.)

(Ira leaps towards him, the bear's true master, and growls at the Virtue in distrust, not gratefulness. "This is why Greed calls you a fool in her kinder moments.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Kindness was an enigma. The man had done pretty much exactly what Charity had done in China – except in this situation it had been the Pacific Ocean the bear had fallen into, not a bonfire – and yet he found it hard to not mind him. In fact, Wrath hated him. He wanted Kindness to stay away. He wanted the Virtue gone.

And he wanted him to stop talking to his sister.

("Hey, how's Envy doing?" The man tries to ask casually as their blades clash.)

(He is pushed back as his opponent snarls. "Die.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Chastity, in the rare times they ever faced off each other, he could relate to because of all the anger she had towards Lust. Whenever the Virtue was around, he could feel the fiery hate and anger within her. He savoured it because her fellow Virtues wouldn't let her near him and his angry influence too long. Everyone knew that if she had been Patience or Temperance, she would have fallen a long time ago.

("Tell your brother that he's dead." The maiden – not a woman yet, but past the ages of a girl – snarls in an unladylike manner as she loads her crossbow with quick, experienced movements.)

(His sword is in his hand and although he hates the bolts that woman likes to use she still puts up a good fight, unlike some of her kin. "That makes it the hundredth time you've asked me to relay this message." It's an overly exaggerated statistic but no one cares.)

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Humility annoyed him. His calm way of speaking, his always even voice, his modest habits and his inconspicuous style of being everywhere irritated him just thinking about it. That, and he was almost always right. Damn him and his everything, Wrath wanted to burn him in hellfire.

If that wasn't enough, there was also the reaction Pride had when he was within a fifty mile radius around her. Mostly they were hysterical fits, tantrums, rants and speeches of hate hours long where everyone – even Sloth – was subjected to two hundred percent of an angry Pride. Sometimes she commissioned mass deaths or crime. By simply being himself, Humility had been the indirect cause for twenty percent – according to a yawning Sloth – of his daily anger.

("I most humbly apologize for any trouble I may have caused.")

("Shut up, go home and stay there.")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Diligence brought on mixed responses. While he was grateful for the fact that Sloth was forced to stop sleeping around him . . .

The man was a twisted copy of Gluttony. He couldn't stay still, couldn't shut up and couldn't stop doing something to keep himself occupied. He was like a demigod on a permanent sugar high, and a heroic one at that. The worst kind of demigod there was. At least those demigod heroes had fatal flaws. All Diligence had was a slight weakness to Sloth.

("Okay, team! So we take the Sins down and then we move onto the Arctic where we'll save the polar bears. Then we go and fix the holes in the ozone layer before dropping by in Syria to stop the conflict-")

(A spear is hurled by a man with red hair and only manages to rip his ear off as the other man jerks his head to the side at the last second with alarmed eyes. "Shut up!")

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Patience? As for Patience . . . .

The only reason that woman had survived for so long was because of the spell that cursed goddess had tied into their very beings while they had been captive. When they finally cleansed themselves of this burden, she'd be the first to perish, burning with hellfire at his hands.

("You'll never succeed.")

("We'll see about that. Now, sleep." The woman struggles but slips into unconsciousness and stills in the coffin she has been placed in. Her limp hands are wrapped around a luscious apple before the lid of the jeweled coffin is closed.)

* * *

Guess who finally broke writer's block by realizing it was time for Wrath's Relationships?


	16. Tantalus the Fat Man

The fat man was robed in enough golden cloth to clothe all of the people in China and then some. His neck was practically nonexistent, buried in layers of fat from his face and gold chains with rubies and diamonds were scattered all around him in a careless way. A few stones dropped off of him, slipping and sliding off his body because of his body fat, but the man who could have been the humanoid blue whale didn't even seem to notice or care.

He would be the type of man virtually impossible to imagine as 'healthy', let alone 'thin to the point of starvation'. Nonetheless, Percy recognized him. "You!" he pointed at him. Inside the richly dressed fat man he found traces of a bright eyed creepy prisoner who had once been starving.

"Me," the fattened Tantalus smiled. At least that creepy smile hadn't changed. "Hello, Jackson."

"You're Gluttony's agent?" one of the Aphrodite kids wrinkled her nose. "Go on a diet or something."

The man who was supposed to be still serving his eternal punishment lifted his fingers and snapped them. Despite the chub on them that made his fingers look like hot dog wieners – the really thick kind – the sound rang out loud and sharp.

The girl screamed as her body began to bloat and grow with accelerated speed right in front of their eyes. Within moments her once-slim body had quadrupled in size. If that wasn't enough, her face was now dotted with huge pimples, freckles and blackheads.

Tantalus smiled and shifted his seat, bringing force a muffled groan from his starving carriers. "Behold, the power of my master," he said dramatically. "All hail Lord Gluttony!"

Despite the grand announcement, 'Lord Gluttony' himself didn't pop up out of nowhere. Percy wondered who he was supposed to hail if Gluttony wasn't here.

"What have you done to me?" the girl screeched. Percy winced. Most Aphrodite girls had great voices, but now this girl's had been distorted to sound like a crow's.

Tantalus didn't seem to like having his dramatic moment cut short, but he answered her question anyways. "Oh, nothing much. This was just a very simple demonstration of the generous gift my master gave me," Tantalus grinned and reached out to push his greasy hair back. He had to struggle to do it because of his large body mass. "Do you like it?"

"No!"

"Oh. Well, then, go on a diet or something," he tossed her words back at her with casual cruelness. "Now, everyone, as much as I'd like to do that to all of you, I have explicit orders from my master."

The sinner waited until all the murmurs had died down before clearing his throat. "My master," he began. "The wonderful, powerful, magnificent, amazing Lord Gluttony, sends his regards to you unworthy brats."

Percy's impression of Gluttony, imagined from all the things he knew about him, hadn't been any of the things Tantalus had described him as. Obviously, one of them was being tricked and since the kids at Camp Half-Blood weren't unworthy brats . . . .

"The wonderful, powerful, magnificent and amazing Lord Gluttony has accidently displeased one of his beloved brothers, the fierce and brilliant Lord Wrath, and wishes to make amends to repair their relationship."

"You _do_ know that Wrath is dead right now, right?"

Tantalus scowled at being interrupted. "Silence, Jackson," he ordered. "Show respect to your elders. Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, Lord Gluttony wishes to make amends and therefore sends me as the interpreter and guide to complete the grand mission Lord Wrath had been planning before his murder," he pulled back his golden sleeve with some difficulty and revealed the green fire tattoo around his flabby arm. "I am to join you on your quest as the mortal in your prophecy."

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"How long does it take to talk?" Tantalus demanded. "I am the mortal in your prophecy! I am meant to be the guide to your quest! It is as obvious as the mark of green fire on my arm!" to emphasize his green fire mark he waved his arm around. The chub (it wasn't just restricted to the underarms) actually jiggled.

Annabeth crossed her still slender arms across her chest and tried very hard to banish that image from her memory while keeping the bile from coming up her throat. "You were a king once, before you made the stupidest decision of your life. I'm sure you still remember the political double talk and blatant lies."

Tantalus huffed and wiped a golden sleeve across his sweaty brow. It was really gross when he did that because the silk didn't absorb the sweat and only spread it further. "Don't make heroes like they used to," he complained. "Back then they'd be jumping forward at the opportunity to help others. Now they're just lazy. Greedy. Selfish."

"I hear your 'Lord Gluttony' serves Greed. I wouldn't be talking about selfishness if I were you," Thalia growled, scratching the back of her hand where her own green tattoo sat. All of their marks were reacting with the presence of the man. Since they couldn't bring him past the camp borders – after the excuse Wrath had given to get in it was best to get rid of all possibilities – she, Thalia and Piper had been told to keep an eye on him. The logic was that the marks made them supposedly immune to the Sins' attacks, after what happened with Thalia and Wrath's temporary death.

Piper was trying to talk to one of Tantalus's carriers. "At least eat this," she told the starved person that could have been either a man or a woman as she tried to get them to eat an apple. It was hard to tell because of their extreme state. The carrier moaned and tried to push her away.

"I'd leave them alone," Tantalus advised, grinning happily in his malicious way. "You see, the moment they eat something, their punishment is doubled."

The daughter of Aphrodite dropped the apple. The carriers moaned at the sight of the fruit rolling on the ground.

"Ah, yes, there's a good girl. You wouldn't want them to have to suffer this for . . ." he pretended to think. "Another ten years, would you? Starvation is one of the worst pains one can feel. Trust me, I speak from experience."

Annabeth clenched her fists. She hated this man.

"You were that guy who was punished for trying to trick the gods," Piper said, turning away from the starving, cursed carriers. "How'd you get from that to . . . _this_?"

The fat man sneered. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"I vote we shoot him" was Percy's suggestion.

Unfortunately, Chiron vetoed that. "That could be exactly what the Sins want. If he is indeed Gluttony's agent, then shooting him would technically be an act of war."

"Stupid technicalities," he muttered.

There were a few ideas – let them go on the quest, keep him as a prisoner based on his criminal records, stab him (because it wasn't shooting) – but it was once again Rachel who came up with the most attention grabbing idea. "Shouldn't we tell the gods that a prisoner escaped from the Underworld?"

To be honest, everyone had completely forgotten about that.

"We could strike a deal," Travis offered. "We don't tell the gods about his escape, he helps us. After we're done with the prophecy we inform the gods."

"No," Nico snapped. "Then the Sins will point out that my sister is alive and demand her death as well."

A few other demigods tried to turn his minds with promises that the gods wouldn't go back on their decision of letting Bianca live, but the son of Hades wouldn't budge on this idea. "Besides, the gods will already know this," Nico insisted. "My father keeps an eye on the major prisoners like Tantalus."

Percy thought Nico was somewhat on the right track, not pointing out the blatantly obvious fact that his formerly dead sister was alive again. Best not to make it a big deal, or someone would suffer.

Sadly, that left them at nothing. "So what do we do?"

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"You want us to actually go on this quest?" Piper gawked. "But I don't even have any experience!"

"Oh, you have about three days worth of fighting lessons, don't you?" Tantalus didn't look too concerned. "Back in my day demigods-"

"Your friend Leo didn't, but he went on the quest to save you," Chiron pointed out. "No demigod ever has enough experience."

Well, that was spirit lifting.

"The blood of your godly parent will come into play once you enter a battle," the centaur promised. "Trust your instincts. Rely on your senses and remember your history."

"My mother is Aphrodite," she said. "That, and I didn't even get the pretty from her. How does the love thing help in battle?"

"You could always promise to marry the monster," Tantalus suggested from his seat. "You'd need a serious makeover, of course, but the Aphrodite blood always manages to come through."

She ignored him and continued to look at Chiron. "Your mother would say that love is one of the most powerful things in the world," the centaur teacher said at last. "She would tell you to be creative, to let your gifts cover up your weaknesses."

"That's great advice, but _what gifts_?"

"Every demigod has gifts. You just have to find it within yourself," and when she opened her mouth, he added, "Thalia and Annabeth will make sure nothing happens to you. Both of them are good heroes with plenty of experience. I wish you luck, Piper, daughter of Aphrodite."

After Gluttony everyone had just accepted the entire thing to be true, yet she had never really been claimed. Maybe it was the love goddess telling her that Piper didn't have any gifts and that her mother was ashamed of her.

Piper gave up and picked up the backpack that some other campers had prepared for her. Inside, based on the contents of the orientation film, were the nectar, ambrosia, emergency cash and change of clothes that was the basic given stuff for questing demigods.

Annabeth had the same backpack and Thalia's was the silver kind the Hunters apparently used. Both of them looked much cooler than she did.

Tantalus leaned to one side of his chair. The carriers moaned in pain and effort to not fall over. "Well then, that was an hour of my new life well spent," he said sarcastically. "Shall we get going? Or do you need to waste more time?"

The two other girls shared a look of disgust. Piper was a bit surprised – in a pleasant way – when they included her in the mental communication. "Let's just go," Thalia huffed.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

When Lust heard a hundred tons of water smashing against the door to his penthouse he knew that Envy had figured out what had happened. Mentally, he gave permission for her to enter.

It partly worked and she stopped smashing at his doors. Instead, she simply smashed a few of the ornaments in his house on her way to his room. "Where is he?!" she screeched.

"Hello, sister dearest," he said. "Nice to see you again, been a long time, hasn't it? I'm good, thanks for asking. How have _you_ been?"

Her glowering pink eyes told Lust that she wasn't in the mood. Not that she ever was, but she _really_ wasn't in the mood to deal with him right now. He sighed. "He's gotten a physical body."

She stormed off before he could continue. He followed her to the other room, where Wrath was restrained and trapped under a mountain of blankets. Pride sat next to him in a white lab coat, trying to spoon-feed the annoyed Sin. "Eat it!" she said, spilling half the contents of the spoon on his chin in her attempt to force-feed him.

The man glared at the blonde. His green eyes softened just a bit when they landed on Envy. He nodded to her, but didn't open his mouth to say anything in fear of letting that witches' brew within his mouth.

Envy sighed before she punched his arm. "Ow!" Lust said, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for?"

"For not telling me," she snapped before making her way to Wrath's side to rescue him from Pride.

He supposed he deserved that. But really, Envy and Chastity were just too fun to tease.

* * *

17/03/2013

Was going to post a new story for St. Patrick's Day - that would make a hundred stories - but couldn't write fast enough. Maybe I'll work on it after this . .


	17. Truck-jacking

The first thirty minutes of their quest was quiet and uneventful, and that relieved Piper. From all the stories she had heard about demigod quests, she had been able to gather that there was approximately a fifty percent chance of failure – _if_ she looked at things optimistically.

A few days ago, some of the Aphrodite Cabin kids had also told her about the horrors of a quest – namely no hairdryers, proper hair conditioners and mascara for miles around. They probably thought that those were horrors enough to scare off any sane person from wanting to go on a quest.

While Piper didn't feel that she would need the beauty supplies, other demigods had backed up their claims about quests being hard, and their words she found herself taking a bit more seriously. Monsters, gods who weren't supposed to interfere but did so anyways because of a grudge formed by something a half-sibling of theirs did literally eons ago and worst of all, the mortals who had no idea what they were doing to save the world and interfered because they mistook them for hooligans hurting 'innocent' monsters who were trying to eat them alive.

_Well_, she thought as she looked at the man sleeping behind the wheels of a truck just sitting in the middle of the road. _At least I don't have to worry about annoying mortals._

Annoying mortals? How long had it been since she found out that she was a demigod? Was this her trying to blend in to the big crowd? The 'cool kids' that were the demigods?

Oh. Um.

Not good.

Tantalus, surprisingly, was keeping up with them on foot. He complained and huffed and wiped off his sweat in a way that made her not want to drink any cold drink for the rest of her life in fear of seeing the condensing water beads on the glass, but he kept up with them easily. Piper would have sworn that the earth shook every time he took a step and if she squinted she thought she could see dents in the asphalt where he had placed his foot. Now, though, he stopped next to the truck. "This is our ride," he announced. He always announced whatever he was saying. Perhaps he thought he was too important to simply say something. After all, in the myths, he _had_ been a king before the gods punished him for being proud.

"There's a sleeping man in there," Thalia pointed out, arms crossed. She didn't seem to dislike him as much as Annabeth did – the blonde steered clear of the man and didn't even look at him as they walked – but it was clear to Piper that Thalia had no positive thoughts or viewpoints towards the once-mortal man who called himself Gluttony's Agent.

Yes," Tantalus said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "There is." He even nodded like he was patronizing her, reminding Piper of a falsely smiling kindergarten teacher who looked down at a child like she was saying 'yes, you're doing a wonderful job of being smart and plastering paint over a piece of paper and calling it your mother'.

"What are we going to do, just pull him out and let him sleep on the ground?"

"Yes."

"He's an innocent man who just had the misfortune to fall asleep because of _your_ people! At least let him stay in his truck."

"Innocent? Hardly so, dear Thalia."

"Don't," the black haired girl growled, and Piper saw sparks crackle around her fingers. "Call. Me. Dear."

"Very well, sweetheart."

It was gross, partly because Tantalus was acting like a pedophile and partly because Tantalus was, well, Tantalus. That, and his oily voice made Piper feel like she was swimming in a pool of melted butter and lard.

"But before you are so hasty to label any sleeping mortal innocent, I think you'd like to know that this man is wanted in seven different states for rape of ten different girls, all underage."

Thalia glanced at the man sleeping behind the wheel and it was obvious that she suddenly felt repulsed. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Tantalus placed a hand over his chest to show his sincerity, although that only painted a picture of a deceitful man mocking someone gullible. "I swear on the River Styx," he said. "that everything I just said about that man is true."

Without another word Thalia opened the truck's door and pulled the man out of the vehicle. "C'mon," she muttered. "Here's our ride. Dibs on driving."

Somehow Tantalus managed to climb and squeeze into the extremely small space. He was given the whole back seat to himself and she shared a seat with Annabeth. Even the crowded seat that had her pushed into the truck's door was better than having to be nearer to the disgusting man more than necessary. In the closed area, he stank.

Thalia rolled down the windows. "Where to, oh mighty guide?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hmph," Tantalus huffed and Piper winced at his foul breath that turned the interiors of the truck into a gas chamber for just that one moment. The stench escaped out through the windows after a few seconds, but it hadn't been soon enough. "Teenagers. Never learns how to respect their elders no matter what time period they're in. Well, if you turn the truck's GPS system on, you'll see that there's a whole bunch of English text."

"We're demigods. Dyslexic, remember?"

"Let me finish, you impertinent girl. If you keep scrolling down, you'll see one entry in Greek. That's the place you'll want to set your destination as."

Piper had no idea how to use a GPS system and judging from the five minutes it took to get to the saved addresses, neither did the other two. Tantalus let out a hearty guffaw more than once at their many mistakes and Piper decided to not breathe through her nose after the first two times he laughed out loud.

"Got it!" Thalia grinned.

"Good," Tantalus nodded approvingly. "Now I suggest you drive fast, because your demigod trace on that GPS just told every single monster in the world of your location via satellite."

Both Thalia and Annabeth paled. It took Piper some time to remember, but when she did she too felt the blood drain out of her face. Demigods and technology didn't mix, that had been one of her first lessons. All three of them had prodded at the GPS, meaning that all three of their demigod traces had been sent up to the satellite – or however that thing worked.

"You," Thalia hissed, half-turning around with two sharp bronze daggers glinting in her hands. She looked ready to carve him up and feed him to the fishes.

Annabeth grabbed Thalia's arm. "Not now," she said. "C'mon, Thalia, you can kill him later, but we have a quest to complete and half the monster population in the world after us."

A few seconds filled with intense suspense passed, and Piper tried her very best not to fidget. Annabeth and Thalia were both older than her and had much more experience. Any words of wisdom she might have had would have been completely useless to them. It would have been like a baby trying to coach an adult on how to walk properly.

Thalia turned forwards again. "Fine," she ground out as she turned the key. The engine roared to life and the whole vehicle began to shake. "But as soon as we're done with this quest I'm going to castrate him."

For a man who had just been told that one of his worst possible nightmares was going to come true, Tantalus didn't act like it. "Whoo-hoo!" he shouted, throwing his arms up in a bad impression of a cowboy. His Texan accent was so bad it almost sounded French. "Let's go!"

Thalia stomped on the gas pedal and Piper nearly smashed her head on the dashboard, managing to put her arms out in between her forehead and the board at the last possible second.

Annabeth was an angel. "We should share the seatbelt," she said.

Piper pulled the safety restraint out and passed the buckle to the blond girl. "It's going to be a long ride, isn't it?"

"Hopefully," Annabeth said. "But we might end up crashing instead. Pull your dagger out."

She fumbled for the sheath tied to one of her belt loops on her jeans and gingerly pulled the mirror blade out. "What if I stab myself by accident?"

Annabeth cracked a smile. "You won't."

Which shouldn't have been reassuring with all its short and unproved-ness, but somehow it was.

Thalia reached over and turned the radio on. She listened to one for about two seconds before switching out. Finally, she settled on one station that played a punk rock song she seemed to like. "Better," the black-haired girl deemed it appropriate.

Around three songs later Annabeth began talking again. "If you want, I can give you lessons on how to fight with your dagger."

"Huh?" despite there being only one person in the truck she would have made the offer to, it still took her a few seconds to process what Annabeth had offered her. "Oh, really?"

"Sure, if you want to. You don't have to feel forced to do anything."

"Thanks," Piper fidgeted and had a hard time meeting the older girl's eyes. "I'd . . . I'd really like that."

From behind them their mortal guide spoke, offering his eternal wisdom and clear insight. "Leave it to females to turn an important quest into a gossip tank."

Thalia turned back to yell at him, but Annabeth merely turned Thalia forwards. "I'll yell. You keep your eyes on the road."

Piper decided that she wanted to be like Annabeth when she was sixteen. Of course, that was only a year off, but still.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"You're not completely healed," Lust told him.

Wrath waved him away and leaned on Ira, who was in spear form. "Patience is not free in the world at the moment."

"And her two psychotic sisters aren't?" when he didn't answer Lust sighed. "You should have let Gluttony come as well."

_"No."_ The refusal came out as a snarl more than anything.

His brother knew better than to argue. "Envy did a good job here," he said instead, looking around. A hundred people dressed in black all sleeping on one side of the street, a hundred people dressed in white all sleeping on the other side.

"Of course she did."

He sounded proud and Lust knew he was. Envy was, after all, Wrath's favourite sister.

Lust cleared his throat and his mind before he could think of _his_ favourite sister. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Wrath made a sound of impatience – he hated theatrics. Lust, on the other hand, loved it. He raised one hand towards the people dressed in white – the mortals with pure hearts who would be considered 'good' and made a slashing motion.

Luxuria leapt out, a dog the size of two elephants, and began to rip them to pieces with his mighty fangs like they were nothing but rag dolls. It almost seemed that way from the limbs and shreds of flesh flying around. The blood, of course, ruined the effect, but he didn't mind too much.

In fact, if he waited a bit longer, he would see . . . .

With an unearthly sound something came hurtling out from the sky towards Luxuria. The large hound had a moment of warning where his eyes widened in surprise before the very something had smashed into his skull, pinning the dog down into the ground.

One Virtue drawn in by the pointless massacre of the pure-hearted by the Sins? Check.

The Virtue that had violently stopped his weapon from committing further acts of violence now turned to him. "You sick, sadistic bastard!" the woman cried. "How _dare_ you? How _dare_ you directly interfere and murder them?!"

"Double dog dare, actually," he said, waiting for her to strike first. "Gluttony was bored and so we were all playing Truth or Dare when this particular dare came up. I didn't want to do it, but Pride decided that I was a cowardly, ball-less man who didn't have a right to be _called_ a man. I tried to make her see that senseless massacre wasn't the right answer for anything, but I could hardly resist a double dog dare, now, could I?"

With another scream of outrage – she was particularly angry today, thanks to his brother's presence – she was clawing at his throat. "Liar!"

Luxuria was a dagger in his hand and he struck out, stabbing her directly in her abdomen. Chastity's eyes widened in pain and realization as she saw with reason, for the first time, what kind of a trap she had fallen into.

He laughed. While he waited for Sloth to return – she would, right? – Chastity could be his distraction. And what a distraction she was, too.

Wrath watched it all from the side silently.


	18. Sins take over the Radio

"Would you stop swerving?" Tantalus snapped, his voice a bit muffled and displaced with the back of a headrest after the latest swerve the daughter of Zeus had made with the truck. "Aren't you Hunters supposed to be environmentally friendly and all that? Or have you gotten so used to the powers of your lady that you no longer care about deer and rabbits bouncing around happily in the wild?"

"What does that even have to do with me swerving?" Thalia snapped right back, not wanting to lose to anything with the fat man who thought he was an excellent and helpful backseat driver when in reality, he was a backseat driver; annoying, useless and just a waste of space and air. "I'm not hitting any deer or rabbits here, am I? And I'm trying not to run over and kill sleeping humans here! Suck it up, fatso!"

"The more you swerve, the more gas you burn," Tantalus said matter-of-factly and in the mirror she saw him fling out one of his sleeves like it was some sort of a hair flip to accentuate his final words. "Heard of global warming?"

Thalia groaned when the smell of sweaty armpits filled the truck. She opened the window, just a crack, to try and ventilate the closed-off area. She wished, not for the first time, that she could just shock him into unconsciousness. At least then she wouldn't have to listen to him. One less sense driven to insanity by that . . . that arrogant pig!

"In case you've forgotten, demigod, your scents and the use of that GPS system are already calling monsters by the dozen to us. Is it really wise to spread your scent in a clear trail?"

"AND WHOSE FAULT WAS THAT?!"

Next to her Annabeth rubbed her temples while Piper shuffled and pointedly stared at her dagger. Tired of the man talking on the radio station she was listening to, Thalia reached out to change to some other music playing station when a thought struck her. "The radio stations are still working," she said. But the rest of the world was still asleep, wasn't it?

The DJ was not mortal.

"Yes, they are," Gluttony's agent muttered. "So glad you finally figured it out after listening to that garbage for so long."

Thalia turned the sound on and actually concentrated to the words instead of droning it out. The other two girls picked up on her train of thought and did the same.

_". . . as for the Greek Front, reports say that Artemis has effectively destroyed Wrath, who had gone against official orders and attacked the Camp alone. However, since he had not attacked Camp Half-Blood with the original intentions of actually hurting the camp directly, Pride has agreed with Greed to pardon him with no punishments. Currently no news has come of the status on Wrath's recovery; however, inside sources do say that many of the other Sins had gathered at his recovering site earlier on in what appears to be a sickbed visit."_

"Please tell me this isn't the Sins broadcasting news over the radio," Annabeth said.

"Do you want the truth?" Tantalus sounded falsely sympathetic. Thalia swerved a bit harder around the next sleeping person on the road – there were far too many people sleeping on the street, and while it wasn't their fault she still wanted to blame them - just to get back at him.

_"Gluttony, however, has been reported to have sent a mortal agent to the demigod camp in order to make reparations by aiding three female demigods whose names will not be publically revealed due to them being minors in a quest that the Sins hope will help in making relationships between the two sides better."_

"Why would they want better relations if they declared war?" Piper wondered aloud. She was ignored.

Thalia smashed a fist against the horn of the wheel because she could and it made her feel better, even if no one outside the truck could really hear it. That was actually why she did it. "_That's_ why you were sent?"

Tantalus shrugged his flabby shoulders. "I'm currently trying to fail my peacemaking mission on purpose, so I'd appreciate it if you brats didn't remind me of it. I'd like to say that I 'forgot' about my original goal and got so annoyed at you three so I can have an excuse of some sort."

"You _want_ war? Why?" Piper asked, sounding confused. Thalia couldn't really blame her for it. While the daughter of Aphrodite had never been in war – as far as she knew, anyways – Thalia had. The Battle of Manhattan, while short and not as bad as the lot mostly were, had still been terrible. Friends dead, her sisters dead, the blood of the 'enemy' on her hands for all eternity and the never-quite-gone guilt that she had killed kids her age, younger even, who had just wanted a bit of recognition from the parents that had never once sent anything, not even an lousy child-support check.

Oh, yeah, she knew why they had rebelled and stood against Olympus. She couldn't blame them either, which only made it all worse.

But that wasn't relevant, not now, when Percy had changed everything and demanded that the conservative gods get a major revolutionary change in behaviour. The point was that war was terrible and that their world really didn't need some sort of major supernatural long-term battle for some kind of power or short-lived victory over each other.

"War? No, war is messy. I don't want war directly. What I want is retribution. Revenge. Justice, for the injustice I suffered at the hands of the overly arrogant gods. War just happens to be the fastest way of getting that."

"You do know that one of the people you serve happens to be practically _made_ of arrogance, right? Pride's like the literal embodiment of, well, pride."

"Yes," Tantalus said dreamily. "But she is glorious. She has every right to be proud of herself and her siblings."

Piper made a slight gagging motion that the overweight mortal missed in his daydreaming reverie.

_"Additionally, no further news of the defector, Sloth, has reached us. At the moment all that is known is that she currently is working for the Gods of Olympus and is trying to undo the sleep spell cast over the mortal world by the rest of the Sins and the Evils." _

"Who is this, anyways?" Annabeth wondered aloud.

_"I'm Dishonesty, and this has been the VICE, 83.7. Now back to our sponsors."_

"Dishonesty? Oh, he serves Lady Greed most of the time, though I've seen him skulk around the other Sins. Nice enough boy, but one can never tell whether he's really serious or not because he loves to lie."

Because the name totally didn't give that one away. "Dishonesty? Since when was that a sin?"

"Technically, it is a sin, although not one of the major ones. Instead, you could consider it as one of the evils trapped within Pandora's pithos along with the Sins."

"While I appreciate the breakdown of evil categorization," Annabeth interrupted. "The Sins have a person named 'Dishonesty' in charge of presenting news?"

"Well," Tantalus made a 'duh' face. "who else would be good for the job?"

"Of course," the blonde muttered. "Silly me."

And that was when the first hoard of hellhounds came running out onto the street in front of them.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Piper had never been in a car accident before in her life – when she rode with her dad he hired excellent chauffeurs and no one wanted to hit a school bus in case all the parents of the kids in that school bus sued simultaneously – but now, with the huge slobbering dogs that looked like they were made out of shifting darkness and hateful red eyes slamming their tank-sized bodies against the truck every three seconds from a different direction each time, she thought that this was pretty close to the real experience.

Except, of course, the man in the back commenting on everything casually like this was nothing but a bloody football game he happened to be commentator to.

"I say, seat belts don't seem to be much of a safety tool right about now."

"Stuff it, you pig," Thalia snapped at the backseat driver before waving her arms and somehow magicking two long, bronze knives into each of her hands. "Stupid-" she stabbed through the side window right into the eye of one of the huge dogs from hell. It yelped and dissolved into yellow powder. Another one took its place even before the powder completely faded away.

Annabeth was doing something similar, only she was covering the whole span of the windshield with just her lone dagger in hand, shouting things – mainly curses – in Greek at the slobbering, hugely fanged dogs.

That left her to guard the right window. Mirror-blade in hand, Piper followed the examples currently being set by the other two. She lashed out and tried not to get caught up in the kinda-maybe-so-very-cool fact that her blade just went through the window like it was butter before slashing across the eyes of the unfortunate hellhound there. It didn't die, but it did retreat a bit, whimpering in pain.

She almost felt bad until the next body slam. "This truck is going to fall apart soon!" Thalia cried. "We've got to get out of here!"

The black haired girl didn't even break a sweat while she said that. She looked like an Amazon warrior – or what the female Amazon warriors had looked like in the pictures the books she and her father had leafed through while doing research for his movie – cool, confident and powerful. Not for the first time, envy broke out within her chest.

"I've got a plan," Annabeth said. "Piper, can you cover half of this area?"

Half? As in, half the truck?

"Thalia, drain the truck's battery," the blond girl ordered, shifting a bit to the left. "Piper, hope you've got my back."

And so, since Annabeth's voice left absolutely no room for arguments or protests or excuses, Piper just held her tongue and did the best she could to hold the dogs off while sparks flew from the wires Thalia was tampering with below the wheel.

"I think I should sing," Tantalus said suddenly, the useless guide he was.

"No!" all three of them snarled, and Piper was a bit surprised at the vicious way she had lashed out at him.

"I'm done," Thalia announced a short while after, wiping the small beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead with the back of her markless hand. "That was a lot of juice."

"Good," Annabeth moved closer to her window, placing herself away from Thalia. Piper tried to copy her movements, but found that it was a lot harder to move her face close to the window when there were huge fanged mouths slobbering and trying to bite through said window. "On three, Thalia, you zap them all and we jump out of the truck while the dogs are stunned. Then, we face them without the handicap of being trapped in a metal shell."

"Any requests for a song?"

"Tantalus, you're more than welcome to stay behind," Annabeth added, taking the GPS and the various black cords attached to the device. "In fact, I encourage it."

"How about the national anthem? All proud Americans here, I hope? _Everyone_ likes the Star-Spangled Banner. Except North Koreans. I hear they don't particularly like that song."

"One," Annabeth said. "Two, three!"

Thalia stuck her hands through the large crack that was the result of several stabs through a pane of glass and opened her palms. Lightning, literal lightning like the ones she saw in skies during a thunderstorm, flared out and struck the nearest ten hellhounds. They yelped and disintegrated into the dust.

Flames streaked out after the tendrils of electricity and snaked along the blue lightning like it was some sort of a wire. Reaching the end the flames leapt off and wrangled themselves around the necks of the hellhounds. The large dogs whimpered and whined, and then began to let out an almost-human scream as the bonds of fires visibly tightened around their necks.

The immediate dangers around them dealt with, Piper glanced back to receive the signal to leave the truck. She didn't get anything.

Thalia seemed horrified at the effect she had caused. Annabeth looked shocked.

And it suddenly struck Piper that the flames were green.

There wasn't a particular need to leave the truck anymore, not at the immediate moment – all the hellhounds were gone. That was good, because Piper was confused and she didn't want to move right now. "What happened?" she asked at last.

Behind them, Tantalus snickered and she jumped, having forgotten about him for a moment. Apparently the other two girls had done the same, because they reacted to his laughter in a surprised manner as well.

"Well," the supposed-to-be-punished-for-all-eternity-and-beyon d mortal snickered. "It seems Lord Wrath likes you girls far more than he let on initially."


	19. Twisted Way of Caring

"I have a question," Sloth came up to Jason while he was discussing plans for defending New Rome. She literally just came up to him while he was talking and interrupted like she didn't care about anyone else.

Quite rude.

The other Romans around him who had been discussing war plans glared. A good majority of them still saw Sloth as someone on the side of the Sins, and they blamed her for all the trouble going around right now. She just stood there, ignoring them, waiting for his response with a blank look on her face.

"Can it wait?" he asked. "I'm in the middle of a meeting right now, and whatever it is can't be-"

"It's urgent," she interrupted. "Unless Romans consider the death of all babies not important."

That got his attention. "What?" Images of people with knives going around and killing babies flashed in his mind and Jason cursed the choice he had made of attending that one Christmas Play.

"Well," she amended. "All mortal babies between the ages of newborns and one, I guess."

Jason looked at the others, who nodded tightly. This was still important. "Okay, I'm listening. Explain."

"Is it right to sacrifice abovementioned babies in order to save everyone else?"

She lost him right there and then with her 'explanation'. "I'm sorry, how does this work?"

Sloth actually looked sheepish. "My siblings were better at this whole 'curse the world to sleep' thing than I thought they were," she admitted. "The sleeping spell they put over the world doesn't necessarily intrude on my domain of sleep like I had guessed initially – what it does is it actually drains the mortals of energy so their bodies have no choice _but_ to sleep and try to restore that lost energy. Only, since they keep getting drained, they have no choice but to continue sleeping in an attempt to make up for the loss."

Jason didn't like what she was implying with that 'attempt'. "Sloth, how many people have died already?"

The Sin fidgeted. "Promise not to be mad?" she asked, acting young.

"Sloth."

She exhaled. "Ten thousand mortals, more or less."

Ten thousand. Compared to the population of the world, he told himself, that was nothing. Ten thousand was a small number. More people probably died every day when they were awake from stupid choices. He hadn't even known that people were losing their energy and eventually dying in their sleep because of the spell the Sins had cast. There had been nothing he could have done.

And yet his stomach sank. Ten thousand people dead in their sleep, never to wake up. How many of them were children? How many mothers and fathers that actually cared and were there for their children when they needed or wanted them? How many elderly who had finally finished their life's expected duties and were looking forward to a life of peace and rest? How many innocents?

Who cared whose fault it was? People had still died, completely unaware of what was happening.

"The thing is, they mostly died because they were in dangerous situations when they fell asleep," Sloth said. "You know, hanging off a cliff, driving a truck near a cliff, doing dangerous and dumb things on a cliff-"

"Enough with cliffs," Jason ordered. "And?"

"I found evidence that the rest of the people were supposed to have continued to live even while getting their energy sucked out because my siblings had cast a safety net of a sort to prevent them from dying because of the elements, wildlife and hunger. The problem is, they removed that safety net after I was sent to Camp Jupiter."

His stomach sank a bit further. "So more people are dying."

"Not necessarily."

He nearly threw his hands up in the air. Nearly. All that actually showed of his irritation was a slight pull at the edge of his brows. "Sloth, is there a point to all this?"

"There is, but you have to listen. I've cast a safety net of my own, but I can't sustain that net to its full strength while also trying to break that spell. If I divert around eighty percent of my power being sent to the net to my attempts at hacking the spell, I can crack this spell in a day or so."

Hack? Hacking was what mortals (who didn't have to worry about attracting monsters over the weird thing called the Internet when they accessed it) did to get information in a less conventional and legal way. That, and steal identities, money or other things. Hacking wasn't a word he related to spells that put everyone in the whole world to sleep. "Can't you, um, 'hack' the spell without diverting power away from the net?"

"No. Gluttony and Wrath put up this firewall" she paused and corrected herself. "_Defense trigger spell_ that requires an exact amount of power to even have a chance at breaking. If I don't match it to that standard they set up I can't ever break it. I'll just be wasting my energy and I hate wasting energy."

Babies? He had been around two when he was taken to Camp Jupiter. The ones Sloth claimed would die first were just younger than or around his age when he first set foot in the Wolf House. "Taking eighty percent of power from your net would result in babies dying?"

"They'd be susceptible to hunger, wildlife and the elements, yes. At that age, they won't stand a chance in the time I have to use."

"Can't you change it so that the younger people get more protected?"

"It doesn't work like that. The net applies to everyone equally, whether they're super fit and six feet tall or a person on life support. It's universal and totally not discriminatory, which gives me a discount on power spent. If I tailor it to fit certain ages I'd end up spending far too much energy, which defeats the whole purpose of this choice."

Despite her . . . _amusing_ way of wording her explanation, Jason felt clammy. He was a leader, yes, and he was perfectly aware of the kinds of decisions a leader had to make sometimes, but he didn't feel ready. Not for this.

Who was he to make this decision? If what Sloth was saying was true, then parents would wake up in a day's time to find that their babies had died in a sleep that had lasted for more than three days. The panic around the world would be terrible, as would the confused chaos that would follow as everyone tried to figure out just how it was possible for the entire world to fall asleep for that long.

And yet Jason knew that the longer this state of the world's sleep went on, the greater the chaos would be when they woke up.

"Why are you asking me?" he questioned her. "Why not Lupa, or the gods, or even Reyna?"

Sloth blinked. "I trust demigods," she said. "I don't trust immortal deities that aren't- that haven't proved themselves to me."

She had nearly said that she didn't trust immortals that weren't her siblings, he was sure of it. He couldn't blame her, but he did wish that she would show some more control over her emotions and forget past connections that didn't run with her current beliefs.

"We'll discuss it and put it to a vote," he decided. Jason didn't know what side Octavian would take with this, but he figured that it was the Roman thing to do.

Sloth nodded. "Just try not to come to a resolution of 'maintain status quo', would you? In another three days my net will start to slip and more people than just babies will die."

He cracked a smile. "Will do."

As he turned away from her, the smile slipped off. If Sloth could, in fact, awaken the world in a day's time, then his chance of going to the UN Headquarters to check things out were looking bad. He couldn't necessarily sneak out or call on a quest to go to New York in that short period of time.

What now?

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"What now?" Thalia looked curious. Not angry, or demanding in her fierce way. Just curious.

And then Annabeth remembered that she had used the 'daughter-of-Zeus' thing to blast some hellhounds. The green flames supposedly from Wrath had killed off the rest of the hellhounds, yes, but Thalia alone had killed ten. She was tired from that.

Tantalus struggled to get out of the truck. Somehow, the man managed to squeeze himself through the far-too-small-in-comparison door of the not-so-large-in-comparison vehicle and landed on the ground without hurting himself.

Shame.

"It seems Lord Wrath likes you girls far more than he let on initially," he repeated his previous words. "I, of course, have never seen it in person, but I have been told that whenever Lord Wrath marks someone all the mark does is warn those who see it that the marked has been visited by His Flaminess."

Tantalus's own mark of green fire flared to life. Annabeth knew that the tattoo had flared because the cloth covering the mark burned away in an instant, leaving his golden silk robe missing an arm. The mortal fell down on his extremely large backside, yelping in surprised pain. Her back pricked with warmth at the same time.

"Something tells me that Wrath doesn't like being called 'His Flaminess'."

"Don't be a bitch," Tantalus spat before actually spitting on a finger and rubbing the tattoo. Despite the flare she didn't see any burns on his skin. Nonetheless, Annabeth remembered the tattoo on her back burning before. She remembered the pain far too well.

Like the mark of moving green flames had somehow read her mind, her back prickled again, this time with a warmth that was almost uncomfortable.

Piper's hand rose to her throat. "This is _liking_ us?"

"Like I said," Tantalus rose to his feet, clearly trying to maintain what dignity he had. "The mark should have only warned those who saw the mark on you. He protected you, didn't he?"

No, not really. What the mark had done was actually rob Thalia of her kill. The flames had only appeared when Thalia had released her inherited powers to protect them so they could flee.

Annabeth decided to not argue that. Perhaps it was just men who would see an action like that as 'protection', instead of 'butting in when completely unnecessary and then smashing their chests in some kind of twisted and misplaced pride'. "Warned those of what?" she asked instead.

The heavy man shrugged. "Nothing, really," he said. "But I've been told that Lord Wrath has many who would gladly see his plans fail. Rumours say that those enemies are only all too glad to take those that bear the mark in for questioning."

Questioning. Annabeth had a pretty good idea on just what this questioning was.

"Wait a minute," Thalia frowned. "If the marks are for warning, then why are they in places that are hard to see? Me, yes, the back of my hand's easy enough to see, but what about Piper and Annabeth?"

"It's only visible to those that matter," Tantalus explained, removing the chauffeur and the people inside a limo. "I'm quite tired of trucks now. Let's take the limousine."

Because Annabeth felt bad, she took out a handful of bills and stuffed them into the chauffeur's pocket. "What did these people do?" she asked about the unconscious people dragged out of their luxury vehicle.

"Nothing. They're the only ones with a limousine here, though."

One of Tantalus's starving carriers put on the chauffeur's hat and got into the driver's seat. Tantalus got in the back.

Annabeth felt herself turn slightly green at the thought of having to stay in the same contained area of air with the guy who was beginning to stink even worse than before for some reason, and the change in her skin colour had nothing to do with the moving tattoo of flames on her back.


	20. Wrath's Relationships: The Gods

"He killed your son," he says ever so quietly into the room.

The god does not see him, does not feel his presence as he paces furiously. "He killed my son," snarls the god of the sun whose beloved son with a talent for healing has been murdered by his own grandfather.

"Asclepius will never be himself again."

"He won't ever . . . I loved that boy."

"Someone must pay for his murder."

"I cannot strike at my father!"

The essence of hatred and rage does not want the angry sun god to strike at the king of gods because it is not yet time for that, no, not yet. What he wants is for him to lash out at someone, anyone, as long as they are allies of the gods.

"Who was it that crafted the weapon of destruction that gives your father the impression that he has the right to kill any god's children?"

The memory of a boy falling, falling like a golden shooting star from the sun is stirred, as are the faces of all those who lost their lives due to divine interference.

"Who . . ." the god seizes his arrows and his bow. "The Cyclops."

And the best smiths of Olympus fall that day, killed by the very weapons they forged.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"He killed them," Wrath says.

"You killed them!" Zeus roars.

"He must pay," Wrath suggests.

"You will atone for your Sins!"

Wrath laughs and no one notices.

The god of the sun is banished to the mortal realms for a year as a lowly herder of sheep.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Before the Trojan War, Hestia is driven back from her hearth for just a moment when the flames roar and change into a pillar of fire that is uncontrolled and enraged, so unbearably hot that to be close is to melt away like ice thrown into the sun –

And she would swear the source to be demonic only the flames die down to a docile flicker moments later, leaving no evidence of the angry pillar of fire from before.

If she were not a god she would doubt her sanity and sight.

The world fills with hate and death and rage and war.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"He killed your wife," Wrath whispers into the death god's ear and has to do nothing else but watch the furious son of Kronos with his dead mortal lover in his arms curse an innocent mortal and the Spirit of Delphi.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

"He abandoned you and your mother."

The angry demigod son of Hermes is a key that opens a door to a war that came so close to ending everything those damned gods stood for –

And then the tides of war turned after all that effort.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Wrath is not angry at the results. This is not the first time their plans to hurt the gods partly failed – although, it is the first time that they were so close to succeeding – and they have more plans, yes, with all of them leading to the same outcome.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Ironically, he is patient.


	21. Envy, the Prettier Jane

It wasn't until their limo pulled up somewhere in Brooklyn that Thalia realized two things. One, she really had to go, and two, there was someone moving.

"Excuse me?" Piper stuck her head out the window to call at the person. "Excuse me!"

Thalia looked. And then she stiffened. Piper seemed to be having a hard time making out the features of the person from the distance between them, but Thalia had no problems like that thanks to her lady's blessing.

Bloodstained clothes and hands. Black hair. Purple eyes. A huge smile filled with mischief plastered on a handsome –

She backtracked, ran that thought over with the car in her imagination, and never looked back. The back of her hand prickled.

Tantalus _scrambled_. Within seconds he was out of the car, straightening his clothes and slicking back his hair. "Lord Lust!" he squealed – actually squealed. "Lord Lust! Over here!"

The man took his damn time getting to them. "Well," he said once he had finally made his way over, "what a beautiful bunch of ladies we have here."

And because she was a Hunter of Artemis Thalia did her absolute best to ignore him and the . . . _feelings_ his voice brought out within her. She skipped sex talks for a reason. "You're Lust," she said instead.

He looked at her. Actually looked at her.

Her legs began to go weak. Heat crawled from her neck to her face and she found herself filled with thoughts imagining him playing volleyball on a hot summer's day, skin glistening from the sun and sweat, breathing rough from exercise.

Thalia had to turn her eyes away and straighten out her thoughts. She scowled – she hated looking weak. She never backed down from challenges and yet this guy and his . . . charms were making things oh-so hard for her?

Mustering up all of her Artemis-approved traits and pulling up clippings from excellent boy-hate speeches given by Phoebe, she looked him in his purple eyes again, this time armed with critique and complaints. Purple eyes – psh, Mr. D had them too, and he wasn't sexy, not by a long shot. Oh, and the bloody clothes. What a slob, not even bothering to wash his hands properly.

He smiled warmly at her, _just_ for her. "Such a shame that a beautiful lady has sworn herself to Artemis."

"What do you want?" she snapped before he could distract her further.

"Careful!" Tantalus snapped right back to her before Lust could reply. "This is Lord Lust you speak to!"

"So?"

Despite the body fat and the many other differences setting Tantalus and most children of Aphrodite apart, his look at that moment was exactly the one given to the Hunters by a lot of Aphrodite's kids. Contempt, incredulousness, distaste, belittlement. "He's Lord _Lust_," Tantalus emphasized his name, "you'd be lucky to lick his boot."

"I don't wear boots," Lust interrupted, "and please, Tantalus. I appreciate a woman who speaks her mind so passionately."

Lust winked at her. Tantalus melted.

Thalia had never been more thankful for Apollo's constant attempts at flirting with the Hunters. She had some sort of immunity to insistent (sorta-hot) men who didn't respect the whole 'virgin for all of eternity' thing, and now that she was over Lust's initial overwhelming presence, she could cope. Somewhat.

"But I digress. I'm sorry to say my visit is one of business, not pleasure."

"What's your business?" Annabeth stepped in, ready to argue, debate, analyze and assess the situation with their best interests in mind.

Lust snapped his hands, dressing himself in a doorman's uniform and wiping away all traces of blood on him. "Currently? I volunteered to help my brother by escorting you lovely ladies to him. He's still tired, you see."

"Tired?" Piper rubbed her neck. "From dying?"

"Mm, yes, I suppose that's a sufficient enough explanation for current matters. So," he clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly, "shall we get going?"

Their guide nodded enthusiastically. So much so that Thalia half-wondered if his head would fall off and roll away. She certainly wouldn't have minded if it had. In fact, she'd have celebrated and kicked it around a few times like a soccer ball.

Putting aside daydreams, Thalia exchanged glances with Annabeth – and after some thought, Piper as well. Even if the prophecy stated that they were to follow the mortal as the guide, he still clearly had his alliances aligned with the Sins. For all they knew, they were heading into a trap.

Annabeth had obviously reached the same conclusion. The daughter of Aphrodite probably got to that outcome earlier, though. "How do we know you're not setting us up?" she asked.

Lust shrugged. "You don't. However -"

He raised a fist suddenly filled with a bolt of crackling lightning. It was tinged with purple, and looked deadly. The Sin threw it at Piper, who ducked almost instantaneously. Unfortunately, she was still in the path of the deadly projectile. The familiar green fire leapt out and wrapped itself around Piper in a shield of some sort, right before the lightning hit her. Tantalus gasped softly and applauded.

Once the lightning had dissipated, the fire disintegrated as well, revealing Piper without any harms or injuries. She appeared slightly dazed, but she was alright, much to Tantalus's disappointment.

"You're rather well protected," Lust finished. "So?"

"It could still be a trap," Piper tried to argue, but it was rather weak.

Lust turned his eyes towards Piper, whose cheeks began to grow pink. "Being a demigod is all about taking risks and following your instincts, isn't it?" he murmured softly, like it was just him and her in this world. Together. Alone.

It would be a shame if Piper fell for Lust's advances. She might have been a good hunter, even if she was Aphrodite's daughter.

In the end, they decided to follow their gut feeling and let Lust take them into a tall, fancy apartment building.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

The lobby had a few sleeping humans, and an absolutely gorgeous woman sitting at the receptionist's desk typing away at a computer. Her hair was styled in a cut around her shoulders, the jewelled earrings glistening through strands of auburn when she shifted slightly. "Lust," she nodded curtly.

"Envy," Lust's approach was considerably warmer. "Girls, this is Envy. Envy, the girls Wrath is protecting."

Envy stopped typing and stood up. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"I'm taking the girls up," he said, slightly defensive. "We're not at war yet, relax."

"I'll take them," she began to move forward when Piper's mark flared. Yelling in surprise more than pain, she nearly keeled over when the flare stopped. This time the mark burning wasn't as painful as other times. It wasn't exactly pain she had felt, actually, but a sensation so odd she could only call it a 'rough tickle'.

Envy looked at her, stance calculating and judgemental. Her eyes were a deep pink, and set in a pinched, unhappy way.

She was a prettier version of Jane. Piper decided that she didn't like Envy.

"Come with me," she said at last. When she made a quick swipe at their arms, Piper flinched, unable to help her reflexes at the blur coming towards her. Envy smirked a bit at that. "I won't bite," she promised.

If only Piper could believe that.

But she still followed Envy to the elevator. When Tantalus tried to join them, Envy shook her head. "Absolutely not, mortal," she snapped. "Not while I'm taking this elevator."

Tantalus would have most likely complained about it if Lust didn't tap his shoulder and make a gesture towards the next elevator. "Join me?"

"Absolutely!" he scampered into the other lift immediately. Lust rolled his eyes in a condescending manner towards Envy, who nodded stiffly like she didn't want to be grateful towards him.

When the doors slid shut, Envy reached out and pressed the button with the glowing '10', the third highest floor of the apartment. "The penthouse belongs to Pride. A small piece of advice – don't disturb her right now. She's in a very bad mood."

The elevator rose, and Piper's stomach went through the unsettling, weightless feeling for a moment before the lift slowed down and her weight returned. With a ding, the doors slid open smoothly.

A girl in uniform bowed to Envy, but the Sin just walked past her. "I'll be taking the . . . guests to Wrath myself, Second Lieutenant Storme."

"Of course, milady," with another bow, the girl withdrew to let them off.

Behind them, the elevators dinged again and the other lift's door opened to let Tantalus and Lust out. Tantalus was flushed and red, while Lust retained all of his crisp and cleanness.

"Lord Lust!" Second Lieutenant Storme's voice squeaked a bit at his name.

With a roll of her pink eyes Envy plunged onwards, leaving Piper and the other demigods to hurry on after her. Envy walked faster than her effortlessly, and she did it in high stilettos too.

Piper wasn't sure if the Second Lieutenant was a monster, a human or a demigod, but she did notice other creatures, beings that were definitely not human. For example, the dog-demon thing with flippers. Telekhines, she thought they were called. Every time she passed the 'definitely-not-human' beings, they stopped and stared at the demigod section of the party before hastily bowing to Envy, who was already ahead of them and didn't see the bow at that point in time.

Finally, she slowed her brisk walk in front of a closed door. "Wrath?" she asked, voice surprisingly gentle, and knocked softly. _Rap rap rap._

"Yes?"

Piper's heart pounded. That voice. It made shivers go down the patch of skin where the green flames were etched onto her neck. Not the bad shivers, the good shivers. The kind one got – or imagined they got – when they were watching a good romance movie.

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the same time, making a contrast. This guy had strangled her. Left her a mark that had made her go through some sort of burning torture.

_"A daughter of Aphrodite, then__."_

_"Fitting for this role of being a traitor."_

She still remembered his words.

"Your guests are here."

"I see," a pause, "let them in."

Envy opened the door. Piper's throat tingled with warmth on the border of being uncomfortable.

There, there was the guy with the red hair and ancient green eyes, the angry man who had strangled her and told her that it would be fitting for her to play the role of a traitor.

Last time he had been dressed in casual clothes. This time he was fixing his tie in front of the mirror. Irritated, he ripped the tie off his neck and tossed it to the side where it joined a pile of ripped-up ties. Someone had anger-management issues.

"Here, let me."

Envy crossed the room, a green tie matching his eyes materializing in her hands. She quickly looped it around his neck once and swiftly tied it with a neat knot. "There," she patted his cheek. "You look great."

"Thank you," he nodded.

And then he turned to them.

**~\-Wrath-/~**

Golden ichor caked on her clothes, Chastity barely managed to stumble into the Salvation Army building.

Charity glanced over his shoulders, a cheerful greeting dying out on his tongue when he saw just what state his sister-in-arms was in. "Chastity!" he gasped. "What happened?"

"Who do you think?" she sat in a dusty armchair that smelt like old ladies and moldy cookies, not caring about the furniture's cleanliness or stench at that particular moment. "Nngh."

He was there with bandages and a hand eager to help, but she only took the bandages and pushed him away, shying from physical contact. He wasn't hurt – this was just how she was. "You knew it would be a trap."

"Had to -" she bit her lip, "- make sure those damned Sins knew about our stance. They have to – grr – understand that we'll always be there to take them on."

"They're already at a disadvantage," he said, offering her disinfectant. She took it with a silent nod instead of thanks. "Declaring war against the gods of the Greek and Roman pantheons, losing one of their primary members . . . I bet it's Pride and her pride that's responsible for this careless move. We'll manage."

"They took Patience," she reminded him. "And there's more to this than just idle arrogance not backing down from a challenge."

Charity shrugged and went back to cleaning the store.

* * *

You know what, it's summer. Screw the schedule.


End file.
